A Second Chance
by EngelRune19
Summary: After a curse kills him, Harry makes a proverbial deal with the devil when he takes up an offer to relive his life. Watch out Wizarding England, Harry's no longer your sacrificial lamb, and he's doing things differently this time. Madness, unexpected changes, and unlikely romance add even more chaos to the mix. Will the wizarding world survive intact? Nobody knows. WIP/Rewrite
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, if I did Harry would have been a Dark Lord.** **I also do not make any profit from this work of fanfiction. This fic is co-authored with avergefish, so make sure you check out their fic too!**

 **Warnings: There will be heterosexual and homosexual relationships.** **This is rated 'Mature' for adult situations, swearing, violence, and sexual situations between both same gender and opposite gender pairs.**

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Prologue: The Deal

Harry Potter was not a happy man. He hid his unhappiness well, but that did not mean it wasn't there. It had been ten years since the Man-Who-Vanquished had killed Voldemort in the final battle at Hogwarts, and Harry was bored. He was busy -always off on deadly missions hunting down various dark wizards and dangerous magical creatures as an auror- but still bored. To any outsider looking in it would appear that Harry had everything he could have ever wanted: a loving wife and children, close friends, and a good paying job that kept him occupied. Harry might have been content, maybe even happy with this life, if not for the fact it was all a lie.

Ginny was cheating on him, and had been for almost the entirety of their relationship. His three children Albus Severus Potter, James Sirius Potter, and Lilly Molly Potter were not actually Potters. All three of them were in reality children from Ginny's affairs that she passed off as being his. As for his friends -Harry had discovered years ago that Ron was only his friend because of his status as the Boy-Who-Lived turned Man-Who-Vanquished. Hermione had really been his friend in the beginning, but Ron and Dumbledore had eventually corrupted her beyond redemption. She had used her position as his best friend to climb the ranks of the ministry and was currently causing massive amounts of trouble with international and interspecies affairs. Ron whom Harry actually helped stay in the auror training program on multiple occasions, had been Harry's partner as an auror until he started going on the more dangerous jobs. Now Ron just lazed about and did paperwork.

Then there was the fact that both of them had literally been paid by Dumbledore, from _his own_ accounts, to be his friends during their years at Hogwarts and were still being paid now through Ginny. And Ginny sure loved his money, using it to get the newest, best equipment for her job as a professional Quidditch player for the Harpies, a full new wardrobe every season, and to attend many lavish parties throughout the year. Even when Harry didn't go she went anyway, claiming the reason behind it being her social obligations as 'The Lady Potter'.

Then there was work; yes, the pay was good, but the hours were horrible. He rarely ever got any vacation time and he always had the hardest, most dangerous jobs. If ever he dared to call in sick he was met with stares of disapproval and resentment when he returned. They had no appreciation of the constant danger he was in -that they put him in.

In fact, he had been killed on the job too many times to keep track of. The only reason he wasn't already in a casket six feet under was his status as the Master of Death. Turned out he couldn't be killed. Every time he died he was simply sent back into his body -and if his body was too destroyed to return to, it was mended until it was safe for his soul to inhabit.

Currently Harry was in Egypt. He had gotten a lead on one of the very few surviving Death Eaters and had traced him to within a kilometer radius of his current location. Harry was mildly familiar with the area because of a job he had done in the past with Bill. William, or as he prefered to be called Bill, Weasley was a cursebreaker for Gringotts and had been on an excavation trip a few years ago. Harry was sent along as protection detail for the team. It had been one of the most enjoyable jobs he had ever gone on. Unfortunately, Harry himself was no curse-breaker, and he was all too aware of how nasty some of the old Egyptian curses and wards could be.

Harry could hold his own against most magics, having had to learn how to defend himself against some pretty dark curses if he didn't want to keep dying on every mission he went on. He now had a very extensive repertoire of illegal curses and spells that he was not beyond using when forced into a corner. However, he was nowhere near skilled or knowledgeable enough to take on an Egyptian curse on his own.

Harry sighed as he looked at the vast, nearly endless expanse of sand in every direction. He appeared to be in the middle of nowhere and the nearest wizarding settlement, his only source of supplies and aid, was kilometers away. Harry had his standard kit with him but he got the impression it wouldn't be enough for this mission. Now the question was should he make his way to the settlement to get more supplies, potentially giving the Death Eater time to escape, or pursue the trail while fresh and risk being underprepared?

Well, it wouldn't be the first time he'd confronted a Death Eater unprepared, and this was one of the last ones. Decision made, Harry set off to capture his target. It took a few days, but Harry finally cornered the man near the entrance of a ruined pyramid. The Death Eater fought tenaciously, but proved to be no match for Harry's extensive knowledge and magical aptitude. Unfortunately Harry was too focused on capturing the Death Eater to notice when he stepped past the threshold of the ruined pyramid, activating a long dormant curse placed in the entryway.

None the wiser and having been successful in his task, Harry returned to England satisfied with a job well done. The Death Eater was booked, his paperwork filled out and handed in, and Harry was on his way home for a much deserved shower and nap, completely oblivious of the active curse that had attached itself to his body and was now feasting on his magic.

Ginny was at practice, and the kids were at Hogwarts for the year so Harry came home to an empty house. Ginny would often complain about the fact that Harry had them living in Grimmauld Place, but Harry liked the manor. It was big, and while it used to be gloomy and decrypt it had been refurbished and was now a wonderful home. He had a lot of memories here and was reluctant to leave it.

"Kreacher!" Harry summoned the old elf. Harry and Kreacher had set aside their differences years ago. Harry had come to love the barmy old elf almost as much as he had once loved Dobby. Though no elf could ever replace his much beloved crazy companion.

"Master Harry has summoned Kreacher?" A mild pop announced his arrival.

"Yes, can you get a bath ready for me? Then, if it's not too much trouble would you prepare a light supper? I believe I'll be eating alone tonight," Harry requested as he took off his cloak and boots.

"Yes master Harry, Kreacher bes doing so right away," the elf exclaimed with a happy nod of his head.

"Thank you." The elf disapparated, presumably to start his bath.

Hermione would be furious with him, of course. She often complained about how little progress she had made over the years in regards to her horrid S. P. E.W. campaign. She didn't seem to realise that most elves simply did not wish to be freed. And sure, some of them were abused, like Dobby and Winky had been, but not all elves were treated horribly by their owners. He respected and appreciated Kreacher, besides elves needed the magic of being bound to a family and enjoyed serving them. If he ever hinted at freeing Kreacher he knew the poor elf would become hysterical.

Harry made his way into the master bathroom, shedding the rest of his clothing as he went. The bathroom mirror had already fogged up and the air was a pleasant-smelling steam. The tub was full and contained scented bubbles.

Harry knew the scents were caused by many of the healing and relaxation potions he normally bathed in after a really difficult case. Harry had filled out over the years, but he was still smaller and thinner than he should have been, than he would have been if not for the treatment of the Dursleys throughout his formative years.

His body was nearly covered in countless scars of various ages and sizes, the most prominent of them being the scar around his neck from slytherin's locket, the puncture in his arm from the basilisk fang, and the words 'I must not tell lies' on his right hand. To everyone's surprise the lightning bolt scar on his forehead had started to fade as soon as Tom Riddle had been killed for good, and was now almost invisible.

Harry sank into the pleasantly warm water and allowed himself to relax and let go of the month's stressors. He was just starting to doze off in the bath when Kreacher woke him by quietly popping in.

"Master Harry not bes sleeping in the bath!" the elf said, "Master Harry bes needing to eat the supper Kreacher has prepared for him then bes going to sleep in his proper bed."

"Ah, yes, thank you Kreacher. I'll be down in a moment," Harry said as he rose from the now lukewarm water and wrapped himself in a warm fluffy towel. He made his way into the master bedroom and dressed in a pair of warm cotton pajamas. Harry was served moments after he settled onto his chair at the dining room table.

A plate of hot lamb roast, yorkshire pudding, and greens were placed in front of him alongside a mug of apple cider. "Kreacher! I asked for a light supper!" Harry complained half-heartedly as he started on his meal. As usual, the elf had made more than necessary but Harry still finished his plate. Though not as good a cook as Molly, or even Harry himself, Kreacher's food always left Harry feeling sated.

Pleasantly stuffed and more than mildly sleepy Harry made his way to the master bedroom so he could retire for the night. He would have to be up early in the morning to get started on his next assignment. Still oblivious to the curse that was destroying his magical core, Harry settled into bed and fell asleep.

* * *

Harry is very confused when he wakes to the glaring white of King's Cross station. Unlike the last time he was here, there is no Dumbledore and no mangled baby Voldemort hiding under a bench.

"Why am I here?" Harry asks the empty space around him, not really expecting a reply.

"Because you are dead." The voice is smooth but heavy, many voices layered into one. Harry turns to see what closely resembles a dementor with a living human's face. The man, as it appears to be male, practically oozes cold, dark, despair and desperation.

"Well met, my Master," the being says as he watches Harry take in his appearance.

"Well met, Death," Harry replies. "If I may ask, why now? Why not any of the other times I died? What killed me?"

Death lets out a long-suffering sigh. "You are not meant to die at all. As my Master, I am incapable of reaping your soul. Even now, I cannot touch it." To demonstrate, Death reaches out to Harry, his skeletal hand going through Harry's slightly transparent body. "The only reason you are here now is because of a curse I thought I would never again encounter. It eats away one's magical core and seals the soul off from the body, killing the person in such a way that they can never be resurrected."

"Lestrange, the Death Eater I finally caught earlier today, he cast this curse on me?" Harry questions. He could have sworn he recognized every spell the slippery bastard had sent his way.

"No. It was placed on the entryway of an old pyramid as a way to cull back the number of necromancers in Ancient Egypt. It latched onto you when you passed through its threshold during your battle with Lestrange," Death explains. "But we are now in quite the predicament. I am incapable of reaping your soul, but you are incapable of being sent back to the land of the living."

"That _is_ quite the predicament," a new feminine voice chimes in. Soft and silky, it soothes something within Harry that he wasn't even aware had been upset.

Death and Harry turn in sync to greet their newest companion. A pale woman with long raven hair and dazzling sapphire eyes smiles at them. Her lithe frame is cloaked in a royal purple dress with an ever-changing black pattern shifting on its surface.

"You already know me, Death, and you Harry, were blessed with my gift," she says in greeting.

"Lady Hecate," Harry breathes in awe. This woman in front of him is the mother of magic, the origin of the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him.

"Hey now Hecate, it's not very polite of you to hog all their attention," calls another new voice. All three turn to greet the latest addition.

Her mocha skin is marked with various white runes and in the centre of her forehead there is a third eye. Her royal blue robes are sheer and appear to have a gauze-like texture. She is adorned in various jewels and precious metals, many gemstones woven into her long blonde braids. Her pale eyes sparkle with mischief as she approaches them.

"Fate," Death and Hecate say in a harmonious, if exasperated greeting.

"I should have known you had something to do with this," Death growls while Hecate lets out a sigh of discontent.

"Honestly. Such a welcome," Fate muses as she turns her attention to Harry. "While I have had great influence in this one's life I have nothing to do with your current situation. That blame rests solely on Chance."

Clearing his throat, Harry decides to try and get some answers. "Why, precisely are you two lovely ladies here? I don't begrudge your presence, but I don't understand it. I can see why Death is here, but may I ask _your_ reasons?"

Fate and Hecate look at each other and seem to have a have a silent conversation between them. Finally, Hecate speaks. "We wish to make a deal."

"A deal?" Harry repeats lamley. "What kind of deal?"

Fate takes her turn. "Because of the three of us you have suffered. You have not lived a happy or fulfilling life, but you have served us all greatly, in some cases knowingly in others not. Your current predicament leads to an opportunity." She pauses to take a breath. "I would offer you a chance to relive your life, with the advantage of your current knowledge."

Hecate speaks up. "I would offer you the chance to live the remainder of your life in an alternate realm, one where you have not been so wronged by your loved ones."

"Or, we could both use our gifts to allow Death to reap your soul so you can pass on to the afterlife and rejoin the loved ones you have lost," Fate says in a sombre voice, "the choice is yours."

Harry, stunned, turns to Death. He may be Death's Master, but Death would need to agree to his choice as well. If Death wanted to reap his soul, then he should have the chance to.

"I will go along with whatever you decide. It would bring me no pleasure to reap your soul, but it also would not please me to see you continue on in an unhappy existence," Death says.

So Harry considers the offers placed before him. If he were to allow his soul to be reaped, something they all offered but did not seem pleased to follow through with, he would die. He would be reunited with his parents, with Sirius and Remus and Tonks, but he would be dead. Permanently, irrevocably dead.

If he were to go to an alternate universe he would be alive, but he would never quite be sure of how things differed, of what experiences the alternative him had. There was also the fact that he would essentially be stealing the life of another version of himself.

However there was that last option. To relive his life might be tedious, but it would give him a chance to do things better. To do things differently. He could prevent unnecessary casualties, relive his life the way he wanted to without all the manipulation and deceit and horrors of war. He could fix things. On the other hand, did he really want to go through being born, being a baby and watching his parents die because he isn't strong enough or developed enough to do anything to help them, dealing with the Dursleys….

"When you say relive my life, do you mean my entire life or only part of it? Would I be a 27-year-old man in the body of an infant?" Harry asks the deities before him.

"We would place your current consciousness into your younger body. You can choose at what age of your physical body you would be returned to," Hecate elaborates.

"You would also be blessed with the normal inherent protections that seers have. So, no one will be able to access your mind and see your memories of the future. However, you must be aware that some events may change because of your knowledge. Some you undoubtedly will change purposefully, other differences might not be so intentional," Fate explains.

"You would also be the Master of Death, even though you will not be in physical possession of all the Hallows, even if you choose to go back to a time before you collected them. I would ask that you re-acquire them as soon as possible though," Death chimes in.

"Alright, I want to do that," says Harry as he considers when would be the best time to go back to. With all that he remembers of his life he can't help but think that returning to just before his eleventh year is the best choice. He has no desire to spend any large amount of time with the Dursleys, but Dumbledore's true manipulation of him began with Hagrid. It would also give him time to start rectifying the damage of his childhood malnutrition and strengthen his muscles and magical core before Hogwarts. "Can you send me back to about a month or so before my first Hogwarts letter arrives?"

"We can," all three deities say in unison. Fate and Hecate share a smile and Death seems pleased.

"You are certain this is the course of action you want to take? Once we do this there is no going back," Fate cautions.

"I am sure," Harry replies confidently.

"Then so mote it be," the voices of the three deities combine in harmony as a powerful wave of what can only be pure magic encases Harry and sends him into the comforting arms of morpheus.

"May you be blessed with happiness in this new life, and thrive in your second chance," is the last thing Harry hears as the world around him goes black.

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 **A/N 12/08/18 And so it begins. If you really like this story then hit that follow/favorite button.** **Your reviews are always welcome and appreciated, and a** **big thank you to my wonderful co-author averagefish. Go show them some love ok guys?**


	2. A trip to Diagon alley

A trip to Diagon Alley

Harry woke to a horrid body-wide ache like he hadn't felt in years. He was cramped, couldn't see a thing, and everything smelled horrible.

It took only moments for Harry to realise he was in his childhood bedroom: the cupboard under the stairs. As he moved to sit up he was assaulted by a wave of pain originating from his back. He could feel the skin tearing and the scabs being pulled off by the rough 'blanket' beneath him. _I certainly_ __ _didn't miss this_

Trying to distract himself from his bitter thoughts, Harry decided to make a mental list of everything he remembered about his muggle relatives.

Uncle Vernon was the main threat due to his overwhelming size and strength. He worked at Grunning's, so was gone most of the day, but he returned home around five just in time for dinner and the evening news.

Dudley was the main tormenter. They attended school together. During recess, after school and at the weekends he would round up his gang of friends and go 'Harry hunting,' _that bloody bully._

Then there was Aunt Petunia. His mother's sister. She would more or less leave him alone, just giving him outrageous lists of chores. She didn't hit him very often, not unless he did something especially bad like burning the food or having a bout of accidental magic.

Aunt Marge was rarely around, but when she was it was always horrible. Constantly spouting invented nastiness about his parents and bringing that awful dog Ripper with her. _I loathe that bloody dog._

Harry was summoned from his musings by the protest of wooden stairs and loud thumping overhead. _Seems the fat bastard is awake, now how do I want to play this?_

"Boy! Get your lazy arse up and make breakfast," came his uncle's unnecessarily loud voice. Harry found himself running various scenarios through his mind.

He could confront the man about his treatment, and risk getting a beating if his magic wasn't strong enough or was somehow blocked. Or he could play along until he could test his magic's strength and response time, enduring being a slave temporarily. _Well, I'll play along for now. I should have plenty of time to further consider my position and how I want to go about changing it._

Decision made, Harry cautiously opened his cupboard door and headed to the kitchen. Within moments he had a full English breakfast in the works. His aunt and cousin arrived downstairs just as he was plating everything and placing it on the table.

He quickly washed the pan and waited quietly in the corner for his so-called family to finish their meal. _I should poison you all. Save me the hassle of dealing with you. It's only fair after all, not allowing me to eat any of the food I make._

Harry let out a sigh internally. He would need to change the dynamics in this household soon lest he actually become homicidal. Killing the lot wouldn't do him any good, at least not at this point. Doing so would just lead to him being placed with some light wizarding family, probably the Weasleys, and he didn't need or want that happening.

Absently Harry noted that it was Saturday the 23rd of June -seen from the date on today's paper that Vernon was reading. This meant he could expect to be given a ridiculously long list of chores from his aunt.

As he was clearing the dishes from the Dursleys, he noticed Dudley attempt to trip him. Knowing that would result in him dropping the dishes, and not wanting to deal with the beating he would get for breaking things and making a mess, Harry decided to test his magic a little and carefully sidestepped the chubby boy's foot -something he wouldn't normally have been able to do. It was successful, and Harry managed to safely deposit the dishes in the sink without any altercations.

"There is a list of chores for you on the counter once you are done with the dishes." His aunt said primly as she left the kitchen behind her whale of a husband and baby whale of a son. After drying the last of the dishes with the kitchen towel, Harry picked up the foot-long list of chores.

Mow the lawn, weed the garden, tend the flowers, clean the gutters, wash the car, dust, vacuum, mop the floors, clean the bathrooms, reorganise the shed, do the laundry… the length of the list and sheer amount of chores on it was astonishing. It was unrealistic to expect a single person to get through all of it in a day's time, but if he didn't he could expect a beating for being 'lazy.' _And I'm sure Dudley will purposely mess with tasks that I've already completed or rope his idiotic friends into a game of 'Harry hunting' just to see me punished._

 _Well, I could always use magic...see how much I can do and if it will trigger the ministry to come and yell at me about underage sorcery._ Harry smirked at his solution and got to work.

An hour later and with every task on the list completed, he cast a spell that would prevent Dudley, Vernon, Petunia, or any other person from ruining his magic's hard work. Deciding he would rather not wait for anyone to catch on that he had used his 'freakishness' to accomplish his chores, Harry headed for the park.

 _I need a plan._ And indeed, Harry did need to plan for how he was going to go about changing his life.

First he would need to address how he was going to convince, or force, his muggle relatives into discontinuing their abuse. Then he would have to worry about rectifying the damage from the neglect, abuse, and malnutrition.

He had a month until he would get his first Hogwarts letter, but last time he hadn't gotten his vault key or access to his money until Hagrid had showed up and temporarily given it to him. _Though the half-giant shouldn't even have had my key in the first place. First him, then Molly, I didn't actually get my key until the summer after third year when Sirius gave it to me._

On the subject of Sirius, Harry began to debate with himself on whether or not he should try and get him out of Azkaban sooner. Sirius had been one of the few people who had never betrayed him. He honestly had seen Harry as his adopted son. Thinking about Sirius brought Remus to the forefront of his mind as well. He had no clue where the werewolf currently was, and while he had never been especially close with the man, he had made him godfather of his son Teddy.

Harry lost himself in memories as he tried to plot and plan. Then he remembered the Gringotts break in...they hadn't had Bellatrix' vault key, but they had still been taken down to the vault. Although that had mostly been because he had cast the imperius curse on the goblin. Harry still occasionally felt guilty about that, but it had been necessary at the time. Despite Harry's acceptance of dark magic, he had never become comfortable with certain spells, the imperius and avada kedavra being the ones he foremost avoided using.

 _Can I get access to my vault without a key? I mean, I can actually prove my identity because I actually am who I will claim to be. On that note is there any way I can emancipate myself or claim the Potter Lordship early? That would help with Dumbledore and the issue of who gets guardianship over me._

Harry, in a fit of Gryffindor recklessness, decided to test his budding theory and made his way to Diagon Alley. It took him a while, but after two buses and a tube ride he eventually reached Charing Cross and therewith the muggle-side entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.

Donning a simple disguise and tying a bandana around his forehead to hide his scar, Harry entered the pub. The place instantly comforted the wizard as he fell into a bout of nostalgia. The barkeeper, Tom, noticed Harry after a few minutes and made his way over.

"You alright there lad? Where's your parents? Are you lost?" Toms voice broke Harry from his reverie. The man was looking at him with a concerned expression and a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

"Actually, I need to get into Diagon Alley...you see I just got my letter so I don't have a wand yet." Harry lied. "As for parents...I'm afraid I haven't any. Would you be so kind as to open the passageway for me, sir?" Harry disliked lying to Tom. The man had always been kind to him and had helped Harry out on occasion, sometimes giving him free drinks or meals if he came by without his entourage.

Toms face became sombre and guilty as he made his way to the brick wall leading into Diagon Alley. "I apologize, lad," and Harry knew the man really meant it.

"It's alright, happened a long time ago," Harry reassured him. The barkeep taps his wand in the necessary pattern and let the boy into the alley.

"Come back after you do your shopping alright lad? I'll fix you a plate and a butterbeer, on the house." Harry smiled over his shoulder and nodded his head, pleased with the crinkled smile his acceptance put on the kind man's face.

Harry shook his head free of cobwebs as he turned from the archway to view the alley proper. It looked just as is did the first time he was here. Witches and wizards were milling about going in and out of various shops. A few stopped and stared at him, likely because of his old, oversized muggle clothing. More than a few wizards sneered at him as they passed by, probably assuming him to be some clueless muggleborn. Which for all intents and purposes he currently was.

Knowing he would need money if he wished to go shopping today, and having many questions that only the goblins could answer, Harry headed straight for the bank. He paused at the entrance to revel in the beauty of the towering white building and to reread the warning poem on the silver inner doors.

Enter, stranger, but take heed,

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

…

Harry smiled as he remembered how he, Hermione, and Ron had broken into the bank. They had successfully left the bank with their desired loot and he had found that while Gringotts had not been happy, they had not attempted to prosecute them in any way. Turned out the poem was a challenge as much as it was warning -they had succeeded in their challenge and the goblins had respected them for it.

Harry had no intentions of repeating that event though -breaking into the bank had been far more trouble than the cup horcrux was worth. _Speaking of horcruxes I should set about collecting them soon. I should also figure out what I'm going to do about Voldemort. I could always kill him again, but I don't really want to at this point in time._

Deciding to leave those thoughts for later Harry entered the bank, pleased to see the familiar marble floors and golden fixtures. Like always about a hundred goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter in the main hall. Doors, too many to count, lead off from the hall, through which people were being escorted by even more goblins.

"I am Ironfang, how may I help you?" was the greeting Harry received as he approached one of the tellers.

"Greetings Ironfang. I was wondering if there was some way to access my vault without having my key, and if it is possible to speak with someone about the state of my inheritance." Harry made sure to be polite but firm, never dropping his eyes from those of the goblin to ensure the he did not think him weak, or easy prey.

"Do you have a wand?" the goblin asked a bit stiffly, his beady eyes glinting with suspicion.

"I have not yet reached my eleventh birthday, thus I am ineligible to purchase a wand at this time," Harry explained patiently, understanding that his circumstances were not in any way usual. "I also live with muggles and have reason to believe that they are not in possession of my vault key either. I never met my magical guardian and have no way to contact him to get my key."

The goblin now looked to be very intrigued on top of very suspicious. "In that case simply place three drops of blood on this parchment to verify your identity, then we can summon your account manager to take you to your vault. He will then do an accounting of your inheritance, should you have one. Though this is highly unusual." The goblin handed Harry a small but elaborately carved steel dagger and placed a seemingly blank piece of parchment before the boy.

Nodding his head Harry pricked his index finger and let three drops of blood fall to the parchment. Harry had the pleasure of seeing the goblin's stoic mask break as his eyes widen at the results of the paper.

"Griphook will be here shortly to escort you to his office, Mr. Potter," the goblin said evenly as he climbed down from his stool and rushed off -presumably to go get Griphook. He only needed to wait for a few minutes before Griphook arrived, in the company of Ironfang, and greeted him.

"Good day Mr. Potter. I am Griphook, the Potter account manager. If you would please follow me." Griphook lead the boy through a series of dark wooden doors and marble halls before reaching a small, but tastefully decorated office. The window, too high to see out of, illuminated the office and made the mahogany desk and chairs glow.

"Please, take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Would you like a cup of tea?" Griphook said pleasantly as he seated himself behind the desk and began rooting through a filing cabinet.

"Yes please, milk and two sugars if you would," Harry replied as he sat down on the chair closest to the desk. Instantly a tray with full tea service appeared in front of him and his requested cup was made. Harry took a sip of his tea and a biscuit as he waited for Griphook to find what he was looking for.

Griphook withdrew a rather thick file from within his drawer and set it down on the desk before giving the boy his full attention. "I understand you have some questions?"

"Yes. First, I would like a full invoice of my accounts and an inventory of all properties, businesses, accounts, vault contents, and investments I may have ownership of. I would also like to know if there is any way I can," he paused for a moment, nibbling on his honey biscuit "emancipate myself or claim my lordships before the age of seventeen?"

The goblin was understandably shocked at his request but compiled regardless. "Before we can compile any kind of inventory we must do an inheritance test to determine what vaults you have a claim to. It is similar to what Ironfang had you do but it will give us a list of all lordships you are in the running to claim, as well as all the vaults you may access."

Griphook pulled out a piece of gleaming white parchment and a small silver dagger with runes along the hilt. Harry took the dagger from the goblin and inspected it. The goblin eyed Harry curiously when he did not immediately make an incision and complete the test.

"What are these runes for?" he asked as he continued to examine the dagger.

"They are part of the spell that tests your lineage. It will prevent your blood from being in any way harvested or used except for this specific test and will heal the wound after the required blood has been retrieved." Griphook explained calmly.

Nodding his head in acceptance, Harry repeated his earlier actions and let three drops of blood drip onto the parchment. Ink immediately appeared and started forming words as the cut on his finger healed.

Griphook released a low, shocked gasp at the results and started muttering in Gobbledygook as he handed the parchment over for Harry to see. He then also released a harsh breath in shock as he read the results.

Harry couldn't help his jaw nearly unhinging itself. He had never gone and gotten a lineage test done before. He'd been clueless that he could have inherited anything other than the Potter and possibly Black vaults. _Where did these come from? Why was I not aware of them before?_ Harry had known that Alice Longbottom was his godmother and Dumbledore was his magical guardian, of course, but that his godfather Sirius had blood adopted him _? He could have told me!_

The result was truly astonishing. Not only did he have the expected Potter and Black lordships, but he was apparently in line to inherit from three of the four Hogwarts founders. The Peverell lordship wasn't too much of a surprise, as the Potters were descended from a branch of that family, but the others had really come out of nowhere.

Ambrosius, Emerys, and LeFay were longstanding families that had been believed extinct many centuries ago. Harry had never doubted that his mother was muggleborn, and given that Petunia and Dudley certainly didn't have magic, he couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that the Evans family was apparently a relatively old magical one. The Galleons were nothing to scoff at either, totalling a little over 500k across his various accounts. It took a few moments for Harry to compose himself before he could address Griphook, his mind racing with a multitude of questions.

"Is there any way I can claim my lordships now, I don't want Dumbledore having any kind of access to any of my accounts. And is there a reason why the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff vaults don't have any money?" Harry asked, his voice slightly strained from his shock.

Griphook cleared his throat before responding. "As you are the last Potter, you can use the Last of Line clause and claim the lordships of all your inheritances except Evans, Hufflepuff, and Black. Evans has an age limit for claiming its lordship, there is a current living Lord Black, and you are not the direct heir of Hufflepuff. All of the money from the Founding Families' vaults was placed into the Hogwarts vault once the direct lines of the Founding Four were believed to have ended." Griphook explained. "I take it you wish to claim the Last of Line clause?"

"That depends," Harry said. "If I declare myself the Last of a Line does that mean I must immediately take up my official roles such as my place in the Wizengamot, will I still need a magical guardian, will it influence my schooling?" Harry fired off his questions rapidly as he continuously reread the parchment in front of him, still lost in disbelief. _I don't know enough about the wizarding world to know what role I would have to play as a lord of several houses._ "What exactly _is_ the last of line clause?"

"The Last of Line clause can be implemented when there is only one surviving member of an ancient and nobel house. For you, that would be the Potter family. It allows you to claim any and all lorships you are heir to, so long as there are no restrictions on the title such as an age limit or if the title already belongs to someone else. If you choose to claim the Last of Line clause, it should not influence your schooling unless you get private tutors, you will not be required, nor eligible, to participate in the magical government until you reach the age of fifteen. You will not have a magical guardian, or any guardian really, and any and all marriage contracts or debts your family owes to others are rendered null and void because of your 'endangered' status.

Depending on if you have a creature inheritance, as it says here there is potential for, and what that inheritance may be, you may be pushed to acquire multiple spouses, at least one for each lordship, to prevent your family lines from dying out." Griphook said blandly. _Creature inheritance? I didn't get one before so that shouldn't be a problem, but does he mean I'm going to need to take multiple wives?_

Harry took a moment to consider his options, but ultimately it was his desire to cut Dumbledore off from his accounts and gain independence that drove him to agree to the Last of Line clause. _No way in hell am I letting that man get his grubby hands on any more of my money than he already has. And now I know to keep it from Ron and Ginny._

Griphook pulled several jewelry boxes from his desk and offered them to Harry, as well as having him sign a few forms declaring his emancipation and the activation of his lord status.

Harry slowly put on the lordship rings, one by one, starting with the Potter and ending with Ambrosius. A new wave of magic encased the boy with each added ring granting him various family magics and protective magics.

"You can also claim the heirships for the Evans and Black families, if you would like, these are the rings. If you schedule an appointment we can compile an inventory for all your vaults, properties, business, and investments," Griphook informed him.

"Yes I'll claim the heirships, and can we schedule that appointment for four weeks from now, say on my birthday around ten?" Harry requested, still befuddled and slightly high off the excessive magic boosts.

"Of course, Lord-Potter-Gryffindor-Ravenclaw-Emerys-LeFay-Peverell-Ambrosius," Griphook somehow rattled off with a straight face.

"No," Harry says, "I refuse to be addressed as such, just call me Lord Potter, or Harry if you like."

"As you wish, Lord Potter. Would you like to go to one of your vaults now?" Griphook said with a toothy smile. He was very pleased to have the leave to address the boy -no, the man- before him so familiarly.

"Yes, the Potter trust vault. But first -is there any way to recall all of my keys and return any artifacts, books, or materials that have been taken out of the vaults after my parent's deaths or are not in possession of the family or someone they were gifted to?" Harry requested, thinking of Death's cloak. _Might as well get started on collecting those Hallows. I can check out the other new vaults after a full accounting has been done._

"Of course, we can do that now Lord Potter," Griphook said as he stood and began to chant something in Gobbledygook. Various gold, silver, and bronze keys appeared on the desk as well as what appeared to be half of Dumbledore's office and a good sized pile of other miscellaneous things, including a pensive and - _there it is!_ \- the cloak of invisibility. Harry snatched up the cloak before it toppled off the overcrowded table and smiled as he felt the death magic welcoming him.

"I'll be taking this, but can you put the rest in the Potter Items vault?" Harry asked the frowning Griphook, who was muttering under his breath about legal thievery.

"Of course Lord Potter. Here are your copies of the vault keys, any other duplicates and copies will be melted down post-haste," Griphook exclaimed happily as he handed over a heavy ring with various keys, each engraved with a corresponding vault number. "And here is a basic money pouch -all lords are given one upon claiming a lordship."

 _His mood can change in an instant,_ Harry noted warily. Nonetheless he accepted the keyring and money pouch before they headed off to his trust vault. Riding the cart was exhilarating this time around, and Harry loved the rush of wind. _I'll need to get a broom so I can play Quidditch again. It's been so long since I took the time…_

After filling his bag with enough Galleons to buy out every shop in Diagon Alley, Harry thanked Griphook, confirmed his July 31st appointment, and made his way back to the entrance of Gringotts with a happy smile on his face.

 _This panned out better than I ever could have hoped,_ Harry mused. _Now that I'm a lord, I'll need to look the part -and prepare for my 'reintroduction' to the wizarding world._ With this in mind, a grinning Harry started off toward Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions.

Harry smiled faintly as he entered the robe shop, there was no Draco Malfoy here this time, but it still brought back various memories. _I wonder if I should accept his hand in friendship, as I certainly don't plan on befriending Ron._ Thoughts of the redheaded traitor put a slight damper on Harry's previously good mood.

His ire didn't last long though. Madam Malkin, the friendly squat old woman, took one look at him and ushered him over to the stool immediately. There was shock and mild disgust flashing about in her expressive blue eyes, most likely because of his current attire.

"Oh dear, just look at you! Don't worry, we'll have you all fixed up in a jiffy." Her voice was not unkind, but her thoughts on what he was currently wearing were blatantly clear. He could understand, the trousers were four sizes too large and riddled with holes and stains, the shirt worn to threads and hanging limply off his body. This was why he had come to her shop first -no need to stay in rags when he was buying a new wardrobe anyway. The second he was on the stool she had her tape measure out and about acquiring his measurements.

"Now, what is it you are looking for deary?" She asked as she started noting things down in a small black notebook.

"Well," Harry began, "I'll need a full wizarding wardrobe -three sets of dress robes, a good winter cloak, dragonhide gloves if you've got them, and I would appreciate if all the robes were self-ironing and had charms so they will grow with me. I expect to have a growth spurt by the time I'm headed off to Hogwarts."

The madam's face alighted with glee which only grew with every addition Harry made to his order. She passed him a standard robe to put on so she could start tailoring it. "Of course, of course. What materials and colors, do you also want the first years set of Hogwarts robes?" The woman hastily sent off one of the assistants to bring swatches of fabrics and designs for the boy. It was at this moment that Harry's bandana slipped, displaying his infamous scar.

"Oh! Mr. Potter! I didn't know it was you!" Madam Malkin exclaimed in surprise. Her eyes glinted in merriment as she went back to work, pinning the robes in place to fit his small frame.

Harry smiled sheepishly. _Should have known something like this would happen, but she would have found out when I went to pay anyway._ "It's alright madam, I was trying to go incognito if you will. I'm thinking fine silk for the dress robes, five sets of cotton day robes and plenty of underthings of course. Neutral colors if you would. I am not actually Hogwarts supply shopping right now, but I will be back in the Alley on July 31st and will be happy to purchase a pack of first year Hogwarts robes at that time," Harry said. "If you could have a set of day robes made for me to walk out in, it would be much appreciated."

The madam's expression showed her approval at his decision, still eyeing his rags disdainfully. She hadn't mentioned it, but Harry could easily assume what she had thought of him wearing such things. In the end it took half an hour until Harry was finally satisfied with his purchased wardrobe and suited up in a fine set of soft navy blue robes. He left the shop 70 Galleons lighter and a full wardrobe heavier, though Madam Malkin had cheerfully charmed the packages feather-light and shrunken for him to carry about in his pockets. His prior attire had been gleefully dumped in the rubbish -Harry would be burning the rest when he went back to the muggles.

 _Do I really have to go back? I have money, and could always just stay in an inn._ Harry mused. _No, I need to be there for my Hogwarts letter._ Harry sighed as he contemplated how he was going to deal with the muggles. He couldn't purchase a wand until his letter came, but he had found, rather happily, that he was very adept at wandless magic.

Harry is capable of spelling them into compliance, but that would be a drain on his magical core and could very easily be discovered, which would then cast suspicion upon him. _But then again, if the hat sorts me into Slytherin, they will be suspicious regardless._

Harry still needed to work out a plan for how he would deal with the whole Voldemort situation, not to mention Sirius, Remus, Snape, avoiding Dumbledore, and staying as far away from the youngest Weasleys as possible. He knew the older Weasley sons had actually held real affection for him while Arthur was just oblivious, but the matriarch and youngest were pretty high up on his revenge list. Somehow it hardly mattered that they hadn't truly done anything to him yet, they would never get the chance.

Harry also debated what he would do about his bookworm. If he could temper her tendency towards arrogance and bullheadedness Hermione undoubtedly had the potential to be a great witch -but her attitude needed some adjustment. Harry refused to deal with a mother hen this time around; despite his body only being ten, he was a 27 year old man and knew how to take care of himself.

Thinking of what he wanted to do, Harry paused at the sight of a luggage shop. He knew he would need a trunk for his school things, but he had never really thought about it and had simply gotten the most basic one the last time. Did Hogwarts have rules limiting students' trunks?

Unsure, Harry entered the little shop only to be awed by the various bags and trunks. There were small ones, big ones, some made of wood, some of leather, some dark in color, some so light they were nearly white, and the whole place smelled of wood polish and leather. Fascinated, Harry instantly began browsing.

"Hello there young man," came a gruff voice from behind him. Harry whirled, momentarily caught off guard. In front of him was stout man with greying hair and warm brown eyes. He appeared to be in his late fifties and had a gentle aura about him.

"Ah, hello," Harry replied sheepishly. He didn't remember this man.

"I'm Terence Wordsworth, owner of Wordsworth's Travelling Trunks. Are you looking for something in particular?" the man asked. _This shop definitely wasn't here the last time around. I couldn't have missed it, right?_

"Actually, does Hogwarts have any specifications for what kind of trunks are allowed?" Harry asked as he perused the rows of finely crafted chests.

"No. They don't restrict the trunks of students or staff, though most students get a basic, one compartment trunk to last them throughout their schooling. I have some that can be customised depending on the house you're sorted into, if you like? Or is there something specific you had in mind?" The man explained with an oddly knowing glint in his eyes.

"Well, what kind of trunks are there?"

"All different kinds. There are the basic ones of course, there are ones that have multiple compartments, some specialised like a potions lab, ingredient storage room or library. The larger ones have pet compartments, and a few, like this one," he pulled down a rather large mahogany trunk faceted with leather and what appeared to be compartment-linked gemstones. Wordsworth opened the last compartment, showing it to Harry, "can have a small apartment in them."

 _An apartment? In a trunk?_ Harry was stunned. He had never heard of such a thing before. The man led him inside apartment, explaining how there were different layouts, and the interior was customisable. The fact that the owner could change the interior at any time was rather handy. This particular one had the maximum possible space-expansion allowing for a bedroom with a large ensuite bath, a separate office, living space and a kitchenette.

Harry could instantly picture himself owning such a trunk. _This would come in handy, having my own living space. I could always just hide away here if need be._ The man further explained the countless safety features that came standard with every luxury trunk.

The man had adopted a rather nervous look when he mentioned the bloodwards, but Harry had long gotten over his aversion to dark magic and was all for the added protection. This trunk could very well become the safest place he could be, and it even fit in his cupboard! After they finished the tour Harry asked after the different layouts and aesthetics.

Eventually, Harry settled for a mildly customised redwood and black leather trunk with eight compartments: he had a basic wardrobe, library, potions lab, ingredient storage room, pet compartment, cubby for his Quidditch gear, basic trunk space, and a small apartment with an office, full kitchen and a single bedroom. Each compartment was allocated to a different gemstone.

All of them except for his wardrobe and basic storage were blood locked on top of being password protected. On the top of the chest, proudly in the middle, was a silver plate with an elaborate H.J.P engraved into it. He also purchased a featherlight black and silver bookbag that was charmed against ripping and theft. A few thousand Galleons later and a promise the changes would be done by seven, Harry decided to take a light lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.

Tom greeted him as he walked in and situated him at a table in the back, away from prying eyes and ears. If he was alarmed or surprised by his change in appearance he didn't show it. It was a wonder that the man had recognised him all. While enjoying his meal Harry evaluated his options.

 _I know I need to go back to receive my Hogwarts letter, but I refuse to be treated as their house-elf or slave any longer. I can't spell them to compliance, but perhaps I can intimidate them? Stun the fat bastard, teach them I am not to be tested. I don't like the cupboard, so I can probably get them to give me a proper bedroom. Marge's room is quite nice. Make them do their own chores and feed me properly for a growing boy. Once I get home I'll adjust the apartment._

Pleased with his decided plan of action, Harry's thoughts turned to other topics. _I should start on an exercise routine, and I'll need to make nutrient and healing potions to get rid of some of these unsightly scars. I wonder if I should go to St. Mungo's….No. That would draw too much attention at this point, maybe after my first year at Hogwarts I'll go see an actual healer._

 _Speaking of Hogwarts, should I fight the hat again? I highly doubt it will sort me into Gryffindor, and I wouldn't want it to either. But Slytherin could be very dangerous, not only because everyone would be suspicious of me but because of the baby Death Eaters. Until I figure out what to do about Tom Riddle, I don't want to be so easily accessible to him. I suppose I could test the waters some by befriending Draco -something little golden boy hero would never do- not to mention Draco could be useful._

 _Maybe Ravenclaw? The hat didn't consider it before, but I have developed quite a few Ravenclaw tendencies. After all I couldn't be totally dependent on Hermione, and I don't want to be in any way comparable to the red-haired traitor. It might be unfair, since I have years more knowledge at my disposal, but I am so going to steal that top spot away from Granger. Maybe then she will actually listen to me when I try to help her, and she'll respect my decisions._

Finished with his late lunch Harry headed back into the alley, stopping by various shops to get the ingredients and equipment needed to make his potions. After another hour spent browsing, Harry found himself in front of Flourish and Blotts. _I'll need reference books, and a refresher on my course material, it's been ten years since I actually went to school. Hopefully people won't pick up on the fact that I don't actually think and act like a child should._

With that in mind Harry entered the shop. It was chaotic as usual, piles of books stacked high and shelves bursting at the seams _._ Thinking back, Harry compiled a mental list of books he would need. He soon had a pile of books containing everything he could remember being a part of the Hogwarts curriculum, barring the first year texts of course. He adamantly refused to buy Lockhart's phoney books, and while he wasn't thrilled with Umbridge's Defence Against the Dark Arts book, it had been semi-informative. Harry forwent the Divination textbook as well, as he has no intention of taking that course, and the Monster Book of Monsters, unfortunately, was not in stock.

His list compiled and obtained, he browsed the bookshelves for anything else that may be of interest. He walked away with various texts on wizarding law and etiquette, as well as a few books on Ancient Runes, First Aid spells, and Arithmancy. Deciding that he had enough to keep him occupied until his next trip, Harry completed his purchase and headed for the next shop.

He entered Twilfitt and Tattings next and began to browse. He already had a full wardrobe, but the clothing here was of a much higher quality. He ended up with two more sets of dress and day robes. As Harry left he took a moment to look at his tattered trainers. He needed new shoes.

Harry entered the Culpeper's Cobblers and began his hunt for the perfect shoes. He acquired a pair of lace-ups, dragonhide boots, and a pair of black dress shoes with a matching belt. As he approached the counter he saw a gorgeous pair of riding boots. He didn't know when he would ever use them or find a need for them, but he wanted them. The glossy black leather was calling to him like a siren calls a ship sailing past her cove. The boots quickly found their way onto his pile.

Deeming his shopping trip successful, Harry put all of his newly acquired things away in his bag and headed for Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, stopping to pick up his trunk on the way. One triple-mint-chocolate cone and rootbeer float later, and Harry was on cloud nine. It is with dread that Harry realised he had to go back home. _Might as well go deal with the muggles now._

It was almost dark when Harry reached his childhood home on Number Four, Privet Drive, and he couldn't stop the malicious smirk that crossed his lips as he prepared to make his ultimatums. He could already picture it, the muggles would be angry, having realised he had used his magic to do his chores and then having been nowhere to be found all day. They hadn't a clue about the storm that was brewing, ready to be unleashed upon them at the slightest provocation.

No more house elf Harry, oh no, they wanted to make him out to be some kind of freakish monster, fine, he would give them a freakish monster. _Afraid of magic, muggles? You should be._

Harry never noticed how his eyes had, in that moment, glinted red.


	3. Preparing for Hogwarts

Preparing for Hogwarts

It had been two weeks ago that Harry had woken in his younger body and he had made rapid progress since then. The muggles had been sufficiently subdued: Harry now resided in what had formerly been 'Aunt' Marge's bedroom, no barred windows, cat flap, or lock in sight. After a series of tantrums Dudley's second bedroom had been cleared out by Petunia and turned into the new guest room, ready for next year's visit. Harry still cooked for the household, but he actually got to eat what he made, and he didn't do any other chores.

The nutrient potions and healthy diet were also doing wonders for him, filling out the spaces between his ribs. He had excavated the dust-coated set of weights from the garden shed to his bedroom and slowly begun to make his old auror workouts muscle memory again. It was embarrassing how little this puny body was capable of, barely thirty kilos and he couldn't manage a pull-up. Sweat drenched, he went to take a shower.

Harry had also been gradually testing out his hand-to-hand reflexes, mostly using Dudley and his underlings as practice dummies until they learnt to stay away. It only took breaking Dudley's nose once for the lot to understand Harry was no longer a safe target. He tried to remember Dudley was just a child, but he was so unbearably _Dursley_ that he couldn't help himself. _It wasn't like I didn't warn him._

Harry was trying to be strict with himself- setting a certain amount of time aside each day for brewing, reviewing his first year texts, and practicing control of his wandless casting. There was no doubt he would be the best Firstie Hogwarts had ever seen. He was on tenterhooks anticipating his first letter the week before his birthday. The looks on the muggles' faces when he got his acceptance to a school of magic would be priceless.

And on his birthday he'd finally go the Alley again, get an overview of all his properties and be able to start the process of making a home. Harry was also excited about liberating Hedwig - _I can't believe I forgot about her during my last trip!_ \- from Eyelop's. He might even get a snake from the Menagerie while he was there. _Now that I have the horcrux back, I'll be able to speak parseltongue again._

He had it all worked out in his head. At Madam Malkin's he would have his encounter with Draco, becoming friends with the boy then and there. Harry was sure he'd be able to pull off the whole 'pureblood wizard child' air this time around. He intended to end the day at Ollivander's, getting his holly-and-phoenix-feather, brother wand to Voldemort's. Just the thought made him restless, he couldn't wait to feel the smooth wood against his palm and the resonating power in his grasp. _I miss my wand. I'll eventually have to duel or disarm Dumbledore though. Death did say I should re-collect the Hallows, and that meddling old fool has my other wand._

Harry was honestly surprised the barmy old man hadn't yet come to Privet Drive demanding answers. Surely he was aware that he had lost his status as Harry's magical guardian and thus could no longer access his money. _It must have been obvious, half his office had appeared on Griphook's desk!_ He couldn't prevent the mad cackle that erupted from his chest, to have been a fly on the wall when Dumbledore realised his money bag and weapon was gone. _God, my laugh sounds like Bellatrix'. Wait, aren't we related?_

Harry paused mid-shower to pursue this rather alarming thought. Bellatrix was the eldest sister, then Andromeda and Narcissa. That made her Sirius' cousin. Harry was Sirius' adopted son. That meant... _shit! Bellatrix is my cousin._

And what a disturbing thought that was. He could already hear her baby voice, 'Little bitty baby Harry come give cousin Bella a hug', the boy shuddered under the hot spray. _Great, more fuel for my nightmares._

A lot of these past weeks had been spent thinking, about what he wanted to do, how he was going to go about it, this second chance he'd been given. Eventually, after much careful consideration, he had realised that he agreed with Voldemort on a lot of things. The muggles were a threat, for all that they didn't have magic. The wizarding and muggle worlds were balanced on a knife's edge and every interaction between them was another way that would reveal magic, toppling them into disaster.

In the latest years, or rather over a decade from now, research into old bloodlines had shown that the so-called muggleborn were actually descendants of squibs cast from their families long ago. Now he knew even his own 'muggleborn' mother had been a lost pureblood, descended from the lines of Merlin and Morgana themselves. If he could dig up the future proofs of the theory, he might be able to convince Voldemort to stop persecuting the muggleborns, moving the hate on the muggles where it belonged. Then he would have to make sure wizards kept their squib children rather than throwing them into the muggle world like rubbish.

And while they were at it the creature rights situation was a mess, denying basic human rights to thinking, feeling creatures just for not being entirely human. The prejudice against creatures was almost as bad as the prejudice against dark magic, though the 'light' liked to pretend they were sympathetic. It was absurd how depraved humans could be when there was nothing to hold them accountable for the lives they destroyed with their petty bias and unfounded hatred.

Drying off, Harry shuddered, thoughts of Umbridge having come to mind. He rubbed the back of his currently scar-free hand out of habit, mildly disoriented by the smooth, unblemished skin. Harry vowed that he would never let that woman use a blood quill on a student again. He'd kill her first.

The judicial system as a whole was a mess too. It was hard to think of a part of their world that wasn't running itself into the ground. No wonder Voldemort had gotten so far with his promises of change. Almost anything was better than what they had now.

Not to mention how the Ministry of Magic was practically destroying magic itself with all their restrictions and bans. Magic was magic, and some light spells could be just as destructive and deadly as dark ones. The Dark Lord had started out right, back before he had become a terrorist -trying to use their backward, corrupt political system to legalise needlessly banned magics, legalising the practicing of the Olde Ways, reinstating their traditional holidays. Then he'd lost his way by becoming obsessed with death and muggle genocide.

Not that Harry really blamed the man, he wasn't too fond of muggles himself right now. He got onto the bed, rolling onto his front so his back stopped hurting, before turning his thoughts back to Voldemort.

When he had still been Tom Riddle living in a muggle orphanage he'd been ostracised, bullied, and starved. Not to mention the fear he must have suffered, being in London during the Blitz! It must have been a horrible, traumatising childhood, and this was coming from Harry whose childhood had been no cakewalk. _Is no cakewalk, ugh_ , he kept forgetting he was a child again.

He couldn't even imagine what it would have done to him had he not been raised in a loving home for at least his first year. Tom hadn't, and he'd been conceived from a love potion. It was no wonder that he had never really had any sense of compassion or affection. The man had had morals -at least in the beginning- and ambitions to make the world better.

That was the person Harry wanted to bring back. That was the person the wizarding world needed. Because he had no intention of being their savior this time around.

* * *

It was his allocated time for practicing wandless transfiguration but his magic wasn't working right. Wandless charms, fine. Defensive and offensive magics, easy. But his matchstick was refusing to turn even remotely metallic, to his utter frustration. He just couldn't understand why this subject gave him so much trouble when the others didn't.

Almost without him noticing his mind turned to the upcoming war. He would try to prevent all out war with Tommy, of course, but he didn't agree with the policies of the so-called 'light', nor with the corrupt institution that called itself their government.

No, it was actually more the 'dark' side which called to him. Harry wanted, no he needed the wizarding world to change, and he would change it himself if he had to. Though he didn't really want to be the one holding the reigns. He'd much rather offer support and guidance from the sidelines than be thrust into the limelight again. There had been enough of that the last run through.

But before he could do anything along those lines he needed to be able to transfigure a stupid matchstick. He waved his finger like he would his wand and muttered the incantation. It had turned slightly silvery, maybe? He moved to pick it up and found himself holding ash.

So, Horcruxes. He needed to hunt them down first. _Maybe I can find a way to bring him back sane, if I have them all. With his soul pieced together, or all but one or two small soul fragments, he should be human again. He would never do such a thing willingly though, and the process is very dangerous and requires genuine remorse._ Harry examined a new matchstick as he mused. _Voldemort is far too afraid of death to let go of the safety net he's so painstakingly crafted, I will have to find a very good way to convince him._

He set aside the matchstick for another day. The weather was too good to be indoors anyway.

* * *

It was one week until his letter would arrive and Harry was nearly bursting with excitement to go back to his one true home. _Even if Dumbledore will be there to ruin it._ After the final battle he'd never gone back, unable to stand seeing his home broken and scarred. If he had his way, Hogwarts would never have to suffer the damage she had. He was even contemplating doing some rituals and old magics that could help reenforce the innate protections and wards of the school.

Currently Harry was sprawling on the plush emerald carpet in his apartment office, surrounded by towers of books. He was hiding anything remotely dark or questionable in here, because no one but himself could enter the room. Harry had added additional wards to the insides of his apartment, preventing any future visitors from entering his bedroom or office.

His office was done up comfortably with cream walls, warm oak floorboards, and a matching desk. The chair he had picked himself, black leather and very cushioned; he expected it would be seeing a lot of use. The carpet was between the desk and a black marble fireplace, which even had chimney going to magic-knows-where. Wordsworth had waxed poetic about the latest development in apartment trunks: the ability to connect to the floo network. Harry had smiled and nodded politely but he had no intention of ever getting it connected. No need to chance anyone getting in here by accident.

Green lace curtains framed the enchanted window, which was currently set to view the room the trunk was in. That had left the entire right wall free, until he'd promptly filled with large oak shelves. They were currently bare of any books, but wouldn't be for long. Just as soon as he found the right way to sort all of these. He had perhaps made too-good use of the owl order service of Borgin and Burke's.

Overall Harry was very pleased with his trunk and especially his apartment. _I should hope to be pleased, with what I paid for it._ A lot of time had gone into the decoration of it. Not because he loved decorating, but when the choice was wizarding law or getting more furniture, well. This was where Harry kept all of his magical things and did all his magic practice, it was only natural he do his utmost to make it feel like home.

His bedroom is spacious, exactly what he needed after waking up in that hellish cupboard. He loved the carved mahogany four-poster bed and luxurious white leather ottoman at its foot. There was even a replica of his trunk inside, forming some parallel portal so that he could access his wardrobe compartment from there. He didn't understand how it worked, he just knew that it did, and was utterly brilliant. He'd charmed the walls sky blue and set the window to show a view of the Hogwarts grounds so that the last thing he saw every night reminded him of home.

The living room, and room everyone came in through, was warm and inviting. There were plenty of places to sit or nap arranged around a large low set table on a cozy grey carpet, paired with a white marble fireplace framed by more oak shelves. They were still mostly bare, currently holding various photos of his mother that he had found in the Dursleys' attic, and his books on wizarding etiquette, customs, and laws. He was hoping that keeping them there would make him more likely to pick one up to read, but they were so incredibly dry. They'd have more use in his bedroom as sleeping aids.

Through an archway was his kitchen, home of the the best kitchenaid 1991 had to offer. _Altered to run on magic instead of electricity, of course._ A pale yellow tablecloth matched the sunny walls, while brown tiles and stained oak furnishings gave the room a distinctly Hufflepuff feel.

The one door that visitors could open led to the large bathroom, which he had left in the preset monochrome grey, black and stainless steel. The only splash of color in the room was Harry's green bathrobe, hung on the back of the bathroom door.

Overall, the apartment was inviting, nicely decorated, and very homey to Harry.

Finally finished with dividing the dark books by subject, he let his wandless magic direct them neatly onto the shelves. Well, perhaps not neatly, but he got it done. He shelved _Necromante Uocacionibus_ manually, since he had dropped it, then brought the towers of non-dark books still surrounding him out of his apartment with him.

The second smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive looked nothing like Harry's apartment. The standard magnolia walls and bare floor weren't exactly appealing. The second he'd seen the horrid floral patterns he'd put his foot down, banishing all of Aunt Marge's stuff into Dudley's second bedroom and telling his relatives he'd find his own furnishings. _Wow am I glad I won't need to actually spend time, or Magic forbid sleep, in here._

Closing his trunk, Harry pricked himself on the sapphire that opened his library. The compartment was amazing, because it wasn't just a room filled with rows of bookshelves. It also had comfortable seats centered around a fireplace with a permanent flame in its hearth. Living in Grimmauld Place, he'd grown to love the wizarding victoria-era custom of putting fireplaces everywhere. Thankfully the whole trunk was spelled fireproof, because the warm light was wonderful. It was the finishing touch that made the library almost as nice as his office, and he absolutely loved it.

The sound of over 300 books crashing to the floor drew him back into the present. With a weary sigh Harry got to work again. Manually putting away the rest off the books. At first he went by subject and complexity, but then it was more by whatever book was closest. He'd do it properly later.

He had initially found himself disappointed with his potions compartment, as it had been barely anything more than a workbench and some shelves. Nothing that could be called a potions lab by any stretch of the imagination. He had almost considered going back to get Wordsworth to change it, but he had stumbled upon a really crafty solution just before he managed to embarrass himself. It turned out he could customise all the compartments, not just his apartment.

His altered potions lab would have made all but professional brewers green with envy. It was big enough to accommodate three workstations used simultaneously, had a vast amount of storage space for equipment and completed potions, and best of all, it was completely his own. Quite by accident it had ended up looking a lot like a really nice muggle chemistry lab.

With his ingredients stored safely in the portal-connected storage cubby, the shelves proudly displayed the many potions he had brewed over the last few weeks. The clear vials glinted in the faux-fluorescent light, the rainbow of colorful potions daring you to try and take them. Unfortunately for the fool who actually dared, the shelves were protected by blood wards on top of the protections on the trunk, though a part of him kind of wanted to see someone try. He'd never seen the effect of a _cápite plecti_ and _minimum corporis_ ward together. He imagined there would be a lot of blood to clean up though; shredding _and_ decapitation was a rather messy way to die.

Satisfied that everything was in -relative- order, Harry closed the trunk and settled on the carpeted floor of his muggle room to meditate. He focussed on his breathing, _oh the irony that it was Snape who taught me about clearing my mind_.

He scowled, swatted away the stray thought and went back to his breathing. While Harry had been granted supernatural occlumency barriers by Fate, he had started the habit of -at least- weekly meditation in his early auror days and found the process relaxing.

Slipping into a trance, he used the time as usual to review and sort the memories of his previous life. He was counting on his tight emotional control to help him keep calm at Hogwarts when confronted with people like Dumbledore, the younger Weasleys, and Snape. _What should I do about that man?_

On the one hand, Harry had grown fond of Snape. Looking back he understood that the man had done so much to protect and aid Harry throughout his Hogwarts years. That gratitude had never left him, and had changed many of his opinions of the man for the better. The Snape of '91, however, had done none of those things and was bound to be just as rude, vengeful, and bitter as the man in Harry's past had been in his first year. _Honestly, targeting an eleven-year-old! But then, perhaps this time will be different. If I don't look like a replica of my father and I'm not sorted into Gryffindor he might treat me differently._

Because Harry had been making significant changes to his appearance these past weeks. Besides improving his health he had brewed an eyesight restorative potion that meant he no longer needed glasses. Snape would surely appreciate that his green eyes -his mother's eyes- could now be seen clearly. The potion had been invented in the future, so he'd had to brew it from memory -and his occlumency wasn't the same as perfect recall. It had taken him eight tries and the very expensive replacement of a melted gold cauldron before he'd gotten the shade of azure exactly right.

An old Sleekeazy recipe from Grandpa Fleamont was working wonders to help tame his wild hair. A look in the mirror now showed a boy more like a young, green eyed Tom Riddle than James Potter's clone. Really, the resemblance was uncanny. If not for the proof of parentage from Gringotts Harry might have wondered if his mother had cheated with the Dark Lord. _And won't me looking like Tom's long lost love child just drive Dumbledore bonkers. At least he isn't retrieving me from Wool's Orphanage._

Harry had an ever-progressing list of plans for the meddling, thieving old coot. He was already free from his sticky fingers and the influence of being raised by the Dursley's. Over Christmas break, maybe even sooner, he'd pick one of his family properties to live in. No need to stay with the muggles in a trunk, no matter how luxurious, when he had his own places and was capable, both physically and legally, of looking after himself.

No more being forced to live with abusive relatives, though they had mellowed out quite a bit thanks to Harry's threats. Harry smiled wickedly from in his trance as he reviewed his confrontation with the Dursleys the day he'd woken back in this time.

* * *

Harry had just entered the house when his aunt spotted him.

"There you are you freak!" she screamed "How dare you use your freakishness in this house!" her shrill voice attracted the attention of her husband, who immediately came thundering into the room, his heavy footsteps practically shaking the house.

Petunia wasn't done. "I've had enough of you! Stealing our food, making trouble with our Dudley, and now using that-that freakishness to get out of your duties. How dare you! I have never been so insulted in my life! We take you in, give you clothing, food, and a place to stay, but this is how you repay us!" her thin face was easily competing with Vernon's when he was angry. Petunia had never really ranted like this before, so it was entirely unexpected.

"The freak has done what now?" Vernon's angry boom joined his wife's as he glowered at the small boy in his entryway. His beady eyes held malice in them as he approached, fist raised.

"That's it!" Vernon's enraged voice roared as he took a swing at his nephew. Harry could see in his eyes that he was really, really mad. Madder than when he'd trapped Dudley in the snake pen. Madder even than when Dudley had almost been Kissed. For the first time in his life Harry was truly afraid Vernon would end his life.

He wasn't a trained auror for nothing. Vernon's movements halted instantly as a ball of red light hit him square in the chest. He fell over backward, dead to the world. Petunia's face drained of all color as she looked between her stunned husband and nephew in wide-eyed horror.

"You've had enough?" The danger in Harry's voice was all the more clear for it being quiet, causing his aunt's face to pale even further. "No, I've had enough. I've had enough of being your little slave, your house elf, your punching bag. In case you have forgotten, I am just as human as you muggles are."

Harry turned the full force of his glare on his aunt. She was trembling in her slippers, leaning against the wall to keep herself from falling over. "I've had enough of being beaten to a bloody pulp whenever Vernon is in a bad mood, I've had enough of being hungry, I've had enough of working myself to the bone every day and that still not being good enough., I've had enough of being locked away in a cupboard like a dirty little secret." he continued, his voice getting steadily harder with each word.

"I've had enough. It ends now. I will be treated as a human being. I'm taking Marge's room, give her Dudley's second bedroom, have her sleep in the shed for all I care. You will give me three meals a day. I might cook when I feel like it, but no more chores. And if you object, or ever try to harm me again -I know a different red spell that will do far more damage than a little Stupefy." His irises were rimmed with crimson.

His aunt nodded weakly. "You can have the room, I'll talk to Vernon and Dudley. We can give you space," she answered timidly. She was still cowering against the wall, hands shaking badly, and though her face was blank it was obvious that she was terrified. _Good. As she should be._

* * *

A light knocking on his door brought him back to the present. They'd probably been knocking for a while, considering his trance, so it must be important. He rose slowly, relishing in his young knees, and ambled over. He opened the door to the sight of his aunt practically running down the hall to her and Vernon's bedroom.

Harry shook his head, suspicion mingling with disbelief. Either she'd just played some kind of prank on him, _very unlikely_ , or he was hearing things. _That does not bode well for my mental state_. He turned back to his room, locking the door behind him, and climbed back into his apartment home.

 _I can't wait for my letter to come, so I can leave this muggle hell,_ Harry mused as he made his way to bed. He settled into the satin blankets with a quiet Nox, relaxing under the glow of the moon reflected on the Black Lake.

The morning of July 24th swooped down upon the small family of Number Four like a vulture on a fresh cadaver. Harry was literally vibrating with excitement as he ran out to greet the mailman. Ignoring the muggle's bewildered look, he rifled through the mail, still standing in the street. _Bills, bills, advertisements, postcard from Marge, bills, Yes!_ Treasured letter in hand, Harry ran in to dump the rest of the mail on the kitchen table, then sped back out the door.

He was about to try summoning the Night Bus without a wand when he remembered. _It was still the 24th._ Last time he hadn't been to Diagon Alley until his birthday, the same day he set his appointment at Gringotts for. He had to wait so he could meet Draco 'by chance' in Madam Malkin's.

Frustrated, he accidently scrunched up the envelope in his hand. Harry looked at it, panicked, and tried to smooth the crinkles back out. Hogwarts had kept sending letters until he'd read it, so he had to open this first. _Right. Calm down. Back in the house, and then I'll finally, seventeen years later, get to read my first Hogwarts letter._

He trudged back inside, pre-packed trunk in the pocket of his favourite day robes. He could feel the question in the Dursleys' eyes as he made his way back to his room, back into muggle clothes, back to another week of waiting.

Aunt Petunia came and found him after breakfast. He let her into his room, suddenly too tired to care. If she was surprised that his furnishings consisted of a trunk, weights and mirror she didn't comment.

Perched on the carpet beside him, she looked like a cross between a bird and giraffe. Harry couldn't muster the energy to return her strained smile; they'd spent the last three weeks pretending to be civil with each other and he was too exhausted to hate her.

"So," she began, swallowed thickly and tried again. "So, I assume you know about m-magic."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia. I'm a wizard, I know." The silence between them was growing unbearable, so he tacked on a "thank you." The letter, with its recent creases still in place, was clenched tightly in his sweaty hands. He handed it over. "I'm going to Hogwarts. Like mum."

"Oh." She stared sightlessly at the detailed address, perhaps she was picturing the words 'cupboard under the stairs' there. "Do you need any help?"

"No." With that, the letter was handed back.

Of all the times to try at a reconciliation, why must it be now? "Do you have any questions?" she was, unfortunately, just as stubborn as he was, as Lily had been.

 _Yes, I have a lot of questions,_ Harry thought. Why she had stuffed her nephew in a cupboard, was at the top of that list. "No, Aunt Petunia. It's okay. I'll be alright."

With nothing more than a nod she left the room. Perhaps she even knew that this was the last time they'd speak.

For all his absolution, Harry couldn't help feeling bitter that she hadn't been able to muster up a measly 'I'm sorry.'

* * *

 **A/N 12/10/18 Yay the rewritten chapter two is finished. This may be altered again in the future! Feel free to review, favorite, and follow.**


	4. Gringotts and A New Home

Gringotts and and A new Home

The week dragged by with half-hearted studying and more weight training than had strictly been healthy. He burnt a cake, and his Sunday roast might as well have been ash for all he tasted of it. The entire Dursley household collectively breathed a sigh of relief when the morning of July 31st finally came.

He was out the door before Petunia had even had enough coffee to notice. Wasting no time, he took the requisite bus and tube to Charing Cross with a spring in his step. The green eyed boy waved jauntily to Tom as he slipped past a few incoming wizards and into Diagon Alley. He had another two hours until ten, so he stopped at Fortescue's for an early sundae with apple crumble. Sometimes, having an eleven-year-old body was a gift indeed.

When he couldn't contain himself anymore he made his way to the bank, fuelled by sugar and excitement. Harry opened and reread his letter one more time. He rolled his eyes at the list of Dumbledore's awards and positions. _Why is that even listed? It has no relevance to his position as Headmaster._ Harry entered the bank and glanced at the line of tellers. Spotting Ironfang, he approached the counter with a smile.

"Good morning Ironfang," Harry greeted the teller, much to the goblin's surprise. "I'm here for my ten o'clock appointment with Griphook."

"Just a moment Mr. Potter, he will be with you shortly," the teller said, climbing down off his stool and rushing off to find Harry's accountant. Harry made himself comfortable in one of the plush chairs in the waiting area, but he'd barely settled when Ironfang came rushing back, Griphook in tow. _Wow, the goblins never fretted about me like this before,_ Harry noted as he stood. _It must be because I'm the lord of several houses, rather than just two._

"Good morning Griphook. I hope you don't mind that I'm a little early," Harry said warmly as the goblins approached him.

"Not at all Mr. Potter, not at all. I just got the reports you asked for. Let us head to my office." Griphook grinned a hideous goblin grin. He lead Harry a different path through the twisting and turning marble hallways, but they somehow end up in the same office as last time.

"Take a seat Mr. Potter. Tea? " Griphook questioned as they sat. Three magenta files were already out and open with a stack of three more on the corner of the desk.

"Thank you, Griphook. Tea is fine," Harry replied as he made himself comfortable. Just like on his previous visit, a full tea service appeared and a cup of tea, just the way he liked, was made for him.

"We begin. I am unable to give you an inventory of the Hufflepuff, Black, or Evans accounts as you are not the presiding lord of those families. I do, however, have the files for the seven lordships you do possess," Griphook said. He then proceeded to explain about the various investments and business attached to each account. He had a list covering all of the books, ingredients, artifacts, crafting materials, pictures, jewelry, weapons, clothing, and portraits within his vaults. Harry tried to skim past Emrys, only to find an extension charm on the roll. He and Griphook watched in silence as it unravelled all the way to the far wall.

"Er," Griphook cleared his throat. "Let us move on to your properties." Harry had apartments, cottages and manors dotted across Europe and the rest of the world. There was even a one-room apartment in Japan! He perused the UK properties for a new home, soon whittling the choices down to the Potter manor in Scotland for him to settle in to. It was far away enough from any nosy neighbors but also near enough to a wizarding settlement for supplies. To Griphook's delight Harry also commissioned the goblins to rebuild and furnish the cottage in Godric's Hollow, requesting that the entire contents be placed in the Potter Items Vault and added to his inventory.

It had been his childhood home, the wizarding world had no right using it as some bizarre museum of Voldemort's downfall.

Done with paperwork for now, they stepped over the inventory currently rolled across the floor like oversized toilet roll on their way to the carts. Harry was then escorted to his lowest vault to begin exploring the contents of his inheritance, the Goblin explaining about self-updating itemizing spells they would install for him, for the right price. The roller-coaster ride and localised dragonflame interrupted them, and before he knew it Harry standing before the musty stone of Vault 7.

He was shocked to be greeted by an active portrait of Godric Gryffindor, though he supposed he shouldn't have been, it being the Gryffindor vault. They have a lively conversation, at the end of which Godric convinced Harry to take the portrait with him.

He was less surprised to end up with Rowena's portrait too. There were also books, so many books! Hermione would have killed for these. Or spent an entire childhood pretending to be his friend.

Covetously he took them all with him, books of the Olde Ways and olde magic, rituals, healing magic, battle magic, advanced runes, arithmancy, and warding. Within ten minutes his library had nearly doubled. _This is just from one vault, and not even the LeFay or Peverell one!_ _When I read these I'll as good as qualify as mediwizard_ and _curse-breaker._

The next vault was LeFay's, The number thirteen was ominous, and the whole vault was oozing dark magic. Harry left with books, another portrait companion, and a few interesting artifacts including a necromancer's dagger. Emrys' was next and as per inventory, was empty but for the friendly portrait. After lengthy conversation Merlin consented to being moved, revealing behind the portrait another vault holding Excalibur itself.

The legendary blade was sheathed in black dragonhide and was radiating large amounts of magic. The sword and a portrait of one of the most respected and feared wizards of all time promptly found their way into his trunk's living room. The three other vaults yielded an obscene amount of books. He also grabbed his parent's photos, journals, wands, and wedding rings. All things that had suspiciously been missing in his previous run through of life.

 _Except, was that Ginny's wedding dress…?_ A wave of untempered rage encased him as he realised just where Ginny had gotten her dress from. She had _stolen it_ from his vault. Or more likely, Dumbledore had stolen it from his vault and given it to Molly, who'd passed it on to Ginny. Family heirloom indeed, just not a Weasley one.

Taking a calming breath, followed by a second one because the first hadn't helped, Harry took one last look around the Potter vault. For now, this was enough. A last stop at his trust fund and he was sufficiently armed for today's shopping. He thanked Griphook for his time and left the bank, six magenta files tucked safely in his book bag and a self updating ward purchased for his Potter vault.

Once back in the summer sun he opened his Hogwarts letter again, pulled out the enclosed list of required books and equipment, and read.

He had most of it already, missing only school robes, a hat, telescope, and wand. And at the bottom of the page, one owl OR cat OR toad. _Hedwig, here I come!_

Harry ran all the way to Eeylop's Owl Emporium like the eleven-year-old he wasn't, dodging the adults and bowling over what might have been Professor Flitwick; he didn't stop to check.

In the dark, musty shop it was nonetheless easy to spot Hedwig in the rafters. She looked slightly ruffled, regarding them all with an expression he knew well, the one that said, 'You are all my lessers, bow to my beauty,'

"Hello there beautiful girl," he crooned up at her. Feeling properly addressed, she swooped down to him. "I'm going to name you Hedwig."

She looked at him for a moment before hopping onto his shoulder, barking once in what was probably acceptance but was possibly an order to feed her treats. Her glossy white feathers tickled his ear when he moved. Overjoyed to have his first ever friend back, Harry picked up a nice wooden perch, ceramic dishes and a packet of treats for his precious companion and headed to the counter to pay.

Hedwig seemed content to find him later, which was most convenient as he'd forgotten to get a cage. The next stop for him was the Magical Menagerie because though the letter said 'OR cat OR toad' Percy had gotten away with a rat for years. Harry was the Boy Who Lived, he'd probably be able to get away with more.

It didn't take long for him to find the snakes. Most of them were sleeping, while a few of young ones hissed wordlessly at him as he passed their tanks.

" _ **Look, a human, a human!"**_ A banana yellow python was banging its head excitedly against the glass.

" _ **Shut up.**_ " This was a large black snake, venomous judging by the poisonous green of its eyes and underbelly.

" _ **But it's a human hatchling! Maybe it wants a snake, maybe it wants me! I'm a snake.**_ "

" _ **You're an idiot. No, it has come to get a bird, or a kitty, or a tasty toad. But none of them want a nice snake, hmm, we scare the little hatchlings. So we stay here, in this glass prison,**_ " the black snake was muttering spitefully.

" _ **You wish to get out of the tank?"**_ Harry asked, their green eyes meeting.

It reared up in surprise. The one he had mentally named 'banana' toppled over, landing on half of the snakes in the tank and sparking an argument.

Black-and-Green came to the very front. " _ **You speak**_?" Harry laughed, which apparently was answer enough. " _ **Speaker! Please, take me out of this glass prison. I have been here for too many moons. I will be a good companion to you. I will protect you, my venom is most potent venom!**_ " the snake pleaded, somehow managing _Avada Kedavra_ -green puppy dog eyes.

" _ **Alright, I'll take you with me. But you have to promise never to attack unless in defense or with direct permission. And I have a bird, you must play nice with the bird**_." Harry temporarily vanished the front glass, allowing the snake to slither up his arm.

" _ **Agreed**_ ," it hissed, settling around his shoulders.

" _ **Do you have a name?**_ " Harry asked, securing the tank again before Banana hurt herself trying to follow.

" _ **I do not. Will you name me?**_ "

" _ **Well, what would you like to be named?"**_ Harry prompted.

" _ **I believe I should like the name Venom. It is fitting, no?**_ " the snake said, gently wrapping its tail around Harry's sadly lacking bicep.

"Alright then, Venom it is. Welcome to the family." He smiled happily as he made his way to the frozen mice. He didn't by a tank for the snake, he would stay on his person or in his trunk as he wished.

The witch behind the counter looked at him strangely when he approached draped in snake, but she didn't say anything as he paid for his new friend. Then again there was a hat in a corner tank labelled 'quarantine' that kept changing into a rabbit, and a turquoise raven was cuddling with a feathery kneazle on a shelf.

This probably didn't even make the strangest things she'd seen that week.

As soon as they stepped out of the shop Venon hid under his robes, hissing about cold. Harry hissed too, because cold scales on warm skin were not nice at all. He'd cast a warming charm on the snake as soon as he had a wand again.

He didn't even notice when the snake gently bit his collarbone, drinking the few drops that fell from the puncture wound.

A discrete tempus revealed it was almost noon. _Well, let's go make some human friends now. Or as close to it as a Slytherin can get._ Harry chuckled at his thoughts as he made his way to Madam Malkin's.

" _ **You need to hide,**_ " Harry told his reptilian friend, who promptly made his way around Harry's waist. Like last time, Draco was already in the shop, though he was obviously further along in the process of getting outfitted. The stool beside him was piled high with a rainbow mound of cloth.

He was looking straight ahead, nose tilted slightly upward with platinum blond hair falling just-so to frame his pale, pointed face. Harry never realised how much he'd missed the ferret's drawling voice, until he heard it again.

"Oh hello," Draco greeted Harry, "Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. My father works at the Ministry. You're one of our sort, right?"

Harry snorted internally, _this boy will always be an arrogant, foolish child. Though I might be able to change how he interacts with others, no one likes a snob._ It would be a challenge, and Harry had been burning for something meaningful to do with his time.

Pushing aside his internal monologue, Harry smiled at Draco. "Harry Potter, I'm sure you already heard about my parents. It's a pleasure to meet you. Hogwarts shopping, too?" His voice was light and friendly, but he hadn't missed the poorly disguised surprise on Draco's face. Now that he'd seen some James Bond films Malfoy's snooty introduction was even funnier, though of course Draco had no idea. _And he hasn't quite perfected his mask yet._ Harry nodded his greeting to Madam Malkin and hopped onto his own stool, right next to Draco. They shook hands.

"Erm, yes," Draco caught himself. "Father is getting my books, Mother is getting potion ingredients. After I get my wand I'll bully father into getting me a racing broom, he says it's a crime they don't let first years onto the teams." Draco was puffing himself up like an eager-to-please puppy. "What house do you expect you'll be sorted into? I'm destined for Slytherin, no Malfoy has ever gone anywhere else."

Harry thought for a moment as the tape got his new measurements. He knew he had grown, and would hopefully keep growing until they boarded the Express. _It's a wonder what proper nutrition and exercise will do for a boy._ "I might be in Ravenclaw? I suppose I could go into Slytherin, but then my parents were both Gryffindors," Harry replied, carefully observing Draco's response.

The Slytherin-to-be had a look of contemplation on his face. _Interesting, Ron would have immediately started bad-mouthing Slytherin. I had expected Draco to do the same with Gryffindor._ After a long, difficult stretch of thought Draco replied, "Ravenclaw is a good house. Not as good as Slytherin, but not nearly as bad as Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. You should strive for Slytherin though, it's the best house after all." He went on to elaborate about the houses, pureblood supremacy, and wizarding customs. Internally Harry kept wondering how much of this was Draco, or if every word out of his mouth was something his father and mother had told him.

"It's alright that you are a halfblood," Draco was saying, "because your mother was magical at least. If you marry a pureblood of good standing your children will be new pureblood, when all four of their grandparents will be magical. We can forgive the odd transgression, you know." Harry really needed to start giving him other ideas to parrot, at least until Draco reached the age where he could form his own.

It was at the end of that statement that the Lord and Lady Malfoy walked into the shop, their purchases likely already shrunken in their pockets or Narcissa's fabulous clutch. "Are you finished Draco?" came Lucius' silky voice. Harry turned briefly to observe the Malfoy patriarch. His long hair was still blond, no trace of the grey it'd had in sixth year. His steel eyes were also warmer than Harry could ever remember seeing them. It's was only normal that the Malfoy Patriarch was far kinder in 'family mode' than normal. Narcissa, beautiful as always and magically sporting hair as blonde as the born Malfoys', was eyeing him warily. _Does she already know who I am?_.

"Just about done, yes. Father, mother, meet my new friend Harry Potter." Draco spoke excitedly, oblivious to how his words were giving his parents pause. Both elder Malfoys were now looking at Harry with suspicious gleams in their eyes and contemplation on their faces.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Malfoy, Lady Malfoy. Draco has told me much about you," Harry said conversationally as Madam Malkin finished pinning his hem. He was only in to get the three sets of plain black robes, after all.

"I'm sure. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Potter," Lucius drawled. His demeanor was far colder than only moments before. Steel eyes seemed to pierce into Harry's soul, judging him. _Best to be cautious. I may be able to befriend Draco, but not if Lucius doesn't allow it. He always was a daddy's boy after all._

Harry nodded politely, grateful when that frigid attention shifted over to Madam Malkin. "Lady Malfoy," Harry began conversationally, "I recently found out we are related. It seems your cousin Sirius blood adopted me when I was a baby. My Gringotts inheritance papers seem to be under the impression he was unlawfully incarcerated. Odd, isn't it?"

Harry's intentions in saying this were twofold, first to gauge her reaction. Second, it would set the ball rolling on getting Sirius out of Azkaban. He didn't need the man as his guardian, but Sirius didn't belong in prison. He was innocent of the rat's murder, and nobody, not even the darkest of wizards, deserved dementors. _Besides, he's my father. I could use a father, even if it's in name only._

"Oh?" Narcissa's voice was unexpectedly sultry. "I hadn't known that. Let me be the first to welcome you into the family then, Harry. I'll have to investigate this unlawful imprisonment of my cousin." She appeared to mean it, and her demeanor had warmed slightly.

Lucius followed her lead, also relaxing minutely. _Ah well, baby steps I suppose. Better that than none at all._ Within minutes both Harry's and Draco's orders were ready and packed. As he was moving to pay Draco caught sight of the Potter lordship ring on Harry's finger.

"No way! You claimed your lordship already? How?" Draco exclaimed, shocked and with a hint of envy. This drew the attention of nearly everyone else in the shop, especially his parents. He could feel Lucius' eyes on his finger and suppressed the urge to shove his hand in his pocket. _Shit, I expected him to think it was an heirship ring. How do I deal with this? I don't want Dumbledore realising he's truly lost me until I have a wand and am safely behind some heavy wards._ Luckily thinking on his feet was one of Harry's strengths.

"Ah, yeah. I claimed my lordships for the emancipation. The muggles my magical guardian had placed me with truly are the worst sort. I was planning on staying in an inn for the remainder of the summer," Harry said, gauging the reactions around him. It was a test of sorts, he was very interested in the result.

Lord Malfoy's eyes had widened at 'lordships', but he seemed to be the only one catch the plural. The rest looked disapproving, though it was unclear if that was at his emancipation, plans or muggle guardians. While Harry had never been one to play the 'poor, neglected and abused' card, he was hoping it would be beneficial to him in this case.

Besides, it wasn't like they could force him back to his relatives, he was emancipated. And they were _muggles_. To have left a wizarding child, a famous, magically powerful, old blood child in the care of muggles was going to get Dumbledore into a boatload of trouble.

Lord and Lady Malfoy were glancing at each other, holding a silent conversation of head-tilts and facial twitches. _They're plotting something._

"Stay at an _inn_?" Draco echoed, scandalised. "No! Absolutely not! Father, Mother, do something! There's another month left of summer!" The whine appeared to have settled his parents' discussion. They both turned to Harry.

"Draco is right, dear," Narcissa said as she approached. "You cannot room at an inn all summer. It's not safe for a boy your age. Emancipation or no, I insist that you come and stay with us in Malfoy Manor until you go to Hogwarts. After all, as you pointed out earlier, you are family. Sirius would never forgive me if I were to let you do something so dangerous." Lucius nodded along, appearing to agree with every word.

Harry considered their offer carefully. He couldn't be sure of his safety in Malfoy Manor, but this would make befriending Draco and obtaining Tom Riddle's diary, infinitely easier. Harry nodded to himself, this was worth the sacrifice of his freedom to do as he pleased. He'd had enough of that last month, it had been productive and exhausting in equal parts, but most of all it had been lonely. He turned to the expectant family before him. "I would not want to intrude, but if you truly wish for me to stay with you then I will," he said evenly.

Draco beamed excitedly while the Lord and Lady Malfoy gave indulgent smiles. "Of course Harry, you will always be welcome with us. Now, I say it's time for lunch." Narcissa says warmly, and when Narcissa decided something it was best, he knew, to just go along. Although he tried to steer for the Leaky, it wasn't to be; they ended up at the small, high end Le Balcon Chaleureux.

 _Oh no, of all the restaurants, why did it have to be this one?_ Harry despaired as he was herded inside. Just as the name suggested, warmth greeted them the moment they step across the threshold right down to the candlelit orange tablecloths They got the best seats, being with Malfoys, with a view overlooking almost the entirety of the shopping district. Harry was incapable of enjoying it.

Usually Harry didn't eat out, and if he did it was at pubs like The Three Broomsticks or The Leaky Cauldron. He only went to fancy places for special occasions, and this particular eatery was where he had proposed to the redheaded harpy. _And there goes my appetite._

Harry sucked it up and kept his order light. The one thing he had learned from his time with the Dursleys was to never waste food or turn down a chance to eat, whether he felt like it or not. The French food was nice enough, though he prefered the standard English fare. He chatted amicably with the Malfoys, with Draco providing an endless list of meaningless discussion topics. Harry internally sighed in relief when the meal was finally over, and if he wasn't mistaken Lucius did too.

"So how much shopping do you have left to do?" Narcissa asked in a motherly manner when they were back in the Alley proper. If Harry were anyone else he might actually believe she was being sincere. He knew better though, he could almost see the wheels in her head cranking out plot after plot to manipulate him. It wouldn't surprise Harry at all if the woman was perfectly fine using her son and their relation via Harry's blood adoption to Sirius as a way to weave political ties. _She's already begun._

"I still need my wand and a telescope. And I wanted to pick up some Quidditch gear and maybe a broom," Harry said as they made their way back onto the street. Narcissa nodded and offered to get the telescope while Lucius shepherded them to Ollivander's, promising a broom shopping trip another time. Draco, like his mother, was great at filling the silence with more inane chatter.

The tinkling bell as they entered finally hushed Draco, the magic in the air making his hair stand on end. He patted it back into place furiously while they waited for Ollivander to make his dramatic appearance.

Of course _Malfoy, Draco Malfoy_ went first, looking very pleased with the silver sparkles that showered from his ten inches, hawthorn and unicorn hair core. _Does Draco know he has the same wand core as half the Weasley family?_

Harry's match, just like last time, took far longer. Narcissa and Draco had bustled off for ice cream rather than cramping the room, leaving only Lucius to overhear Ollivander's comment when his eleven inches, holly-and-phoenix feather chose him again.

"Curious," Ollivander said as he watched Harry cradling his old friend to his chest, "very curious."

Harry, expecting this already, played along. "What's curious?" he asked innocently.

Ollivander looked at him over the rim of his glasses and cleared his throat. "You see, the phoenix that gave the tailfeather for your wand, it gave only one other. Yew, thirteen and a half inches. It's the wand that gave you your scar.

"Its owner did great things, terrible yes, but great. Just as you have the capacity to be as great as he. Though if you will be terrible? Well, who's to know what the future holds? Certainly not I."

A shudder ran through him at Ollivander's words. They were different than the previous time, and while he had known that his wand was the brother to Voldemort's he had never truly been cast in the Dark Lord's shadow before. He was uncertain if he liked it.

Harry payed for his wand and a black dragonhide holster, exiting the shop with a very contemplative Lord Malfoy. It was late, and he reassured them, no he didn't want any ice cream, thank you, so that they could head straight to Malfoy Manor instead.

The room looked just the same as the last time he'd visited Draco here, all white marble and golden fittings and portraits of platinum haired ancestors. _Gods, it isn't natural how every generation looks almost exactly like their forefathers._

"I'm sure you're tired, boys." Narcissa was saying, already charming the soot off them. "Draco, go rest for a while. Harry, our elf Dobby will show you to your room. Dinner is at seven, and if need anything then do feel free to ask one of the elves." Suddenly he was alone in the grand entrance hall, feeling rather small under the arching stucco ceiling. Lucius and Narcissa were off through a door, talking in hushed voices; he had a sinking suspicion their conversation was about him.

Dobby popped in then, excited in his role as Harry's guide. Once alone in his new room, he collapsed immediately onto the soft bed; he'd been on his feet all day.

It was spacious, both the bed and the room it was centred in. Warm colours, a large bay window and white tulle, no spying portraits. While the colours were warm, the atmosphere was cold. Sterile. Harry would have to change that if he was staying here. Find something personal to mark the room as lived in, his.

He heaved himself to his feet, he had to pack away his purchases. _No rest for the wicked._

Hedwig, Magic bless her, chose this moment to tap at his window. He let her in and unlocked his apartment only to walk into the middle of a verbal war. Morgana and Merlin are glaring at each other, faces red and breathing laboured. Godric and Rowena meanwhile seemed torn between wanting to watch and withdraw away.

"What on Earth is going on in here?" Harry asked, utterly bewildered.

"She-"

"He-"

Harry didn't hear a word after that, as they had started talking over each other.

"Enough." Both portraits were now proving that looks thankfully couldn't kill. Rowena helpfully took the opportunity to explain how the two had been rivals since Hogwarts and were, surprisingly, fighting over _him_. Apparently they had each claimed him as their descendent and refused that he was related to the other.

Harry sighed and sat down. Venom got his warming charm and left to explore the apartment before he turned to his ancestors to explain that yes, they did share a common descendant. Issue resolved, he emptied his bag in the study to sort later, and left the trunk again. Hedwig's perch got its own place by the bay windows, some random photographs and his chocolate frog cards got scattered on various surfaces.

Harry sighed, brooding on his chair while Hedwig indulged in letting him stroke her. Staying with the Malfoys was an unexpected development which he now had to factor into his plans. It would be dinner soon, and he'd have to don his mask every time he left this room. Just the thought of it had him exhausted.

That night as Harry slipped into bed, he thought this might have been the longest day he'd experienced in the last year. His reptilian companion joined him under the covers within moments, leaving a draft to seep through what had been pristine hospital corners. _She couldn't have known, forgive and forget_ , Harry soothed, kicking the blankets until they lay flat again.

He could already see the beginnings of a pattern as Venom curled against the crook of his neck and he acknowledged that he would likely be sharing his bed with the snake from this point on.

" _ **This is not quite what I pictured sharing my bed with another should look like.**_ " The green-eyed reptile just coiled against him and laughed. _I wonder what other unexpected developments are going to pop up,_ Harry thought groggily as he drifted off to sleep.

AN December 12, 2018: Third chapter down. Let me know what you guys think of the changes. And again, a big thank you to my co-author Averagefish!


	5. Sorting, Lessons, and Lemon Drops

**To everyone following this fic and getting update notifications, I have been rewriting and improving chapters together with Averagefish so that you can enjoy a better story.**

 **All chapters are being heavily revised and posted anew, with minor new content mixed throughout. Thank you for being so patient with and supportive of me, remember to review to let me know what you think of the changes!**

* * *

Sorting, Lessons, and Lemon drops

The morning of September first was a mess of excitement. Draco had somehow still not run out of things to talk Harry's ear off with as the boys made their way across the platform. The lobster steam engine demanded to be looked at, no matter this being Harry's thirtieth time there. The sheer emotions bouncing around the platform were almost tangible.

Narcissa had genuine tears in her eyes as she hugged the boys tightly -somewhat _too_ tightly- to her chest. Lucius wore a mask of indifference, but Harry could read his sorrow from the tilt of his head and the white-knuckled grip on his cane.

Somehow over the past month, Harry had ended up becoming accepted into this tight-knit family of three. It had been awkward at first, but gradually they'd thawed, integrating him in their daily lives as if he were one of them. He had, in turn, come to trust them somewhat, even though he had moments where he wondered if their actions and comments had alternative meanings or intentions.

Narcissa's inquiries about Sirius Black's trial -or lack thereof- had begun to set things in motion. Harry was confident he could expect Sirius freed, or at the very least a trial date set, by the Yule holidays.

"Come now Narcissa, let the boys go," Lucius drawled, his free hand rising to rest on her shoulder. "We don't want them missing the Express."

They had all of fifteen minutes to fight their way ten meters through the speckled crowd and board the train. Missing the Express was hardly a risk, but they all played along nonetheless. It wouldn't do to show too much emotion here, where everyone could see.

"Of course not. Go on now, I expect your owl with good news first thing tomorrow morning" Narcissa gave them each one last crushing hug before finally letting go. She stepped back into the loose embrace of her husband, both of them watching Draco lead him to the nearest carriage with his head held high.

The Malfoys had relentlessly attempted to get Harry to change his mind about his prefered Hogwarts house, doing anything and everything in their power to subtly encourage him into accepting his 'Slytherin side.' Unfortunately for them, Harry had no intention of giving up on his Ravenclaw aspirations.

Narcissa had finally folded last Monday, telling him in private that she would accept his placement in either house. Lucius, however, was not so open minded; he had admitted he could tolerate Ravenclaw only last night. "Ravenclaw or Slytherin, nothing else!" he had been quite adamant.

The boys boarded the train, soon finding an empty compartment to claim for themselves. Hedwig had seemed content to make her own way to Scotland, she'd been rather disgruntled lately as Draco's new owl Fornax had been making moves on her.

Harry was the only one who thought this was hilarious, while Draco was scandalised his pet was being so undignified in her wooing. The short-eared owl was currently puffed up in its cage, already practicing her Malfoy 'I am your better in every possible way' expression.

While the nocturnal creature remained caged, Harry let Venom out of his trunk-terrarium. The snake happily curled up Harry's arm and about his shoulders. Venom seemed to want to explore the compartment, but also not leave the familiarity and comfort of his robes.

"I still can't believe you're a parselmouth," Draco said, eyeing Venom warily. He had made the mistake of trying to sneak up on Harry once, and narrowly missed being bitten by Harry's self-appointed reptilian bodyguard.

Harry was also watching Venom warily as the snake stretched as far as he could, ready to catch him should he topple.

" _ **Well believe it**_ ," he hissed at Draco jokingly. He knew the boy couldn't understand him but he got a kick out of Draco's expression whenever he heard Harry speak in the serpent tongue.

" _ **What?**_ _"_ Venom inquired, finally done with smelling everything. He was now settling groggily on Harry's chest.

" _ **Nothing, you can go to sleep. I was only teasing Draco**_ ," Harry soothed his companion with a light pat on his head. The snake obligingly closed its eyes in peaceful rest, basking against the warmth of Harry's skin.

Draco had been staring at Harry in awe as he watched their interaction. "Everyone is going to flip out the first time you do that in company," Draco whined excitedly. He seemed to love being in on a secret, ready to lord it over them. Harry could easily picture it, all the little baby-faced Death Eaters looking adoringly at him, speculating if he was secretly their Dark Lord Voldemort, or maybe his son. And meanwhile Draco would sit by his side with a knowing smirk, convinced firmly of his own superiority.

"Maybe, it'd make a good photo though don't you think?" Harry teased. Draco erupted into laughter before slumping back against his seat, eyes sparkling with mirth and cheeks flushed pink. _I am so glad I decided to be his friend this time around. He's so different in private than he is in public. If I hadn't befriended him, then I'd never have known about this side to him, and that would've been a right shame._

 _I wonder when I'm going to encounter redhead menace, number six of seven._ As if Harry's thoughts had summoned him, their compartment door burst open to reveal one Ronald Weasley. "Hey, oh..." the boy broke off as soon as he spotted Draco. The two boys had a silly little glaring match before Ron even acknowledged him. "You're Harry Potter, right? What are you doing with this..." Apparently unable to find a sufficient insult, he just trailed off.

Harry was shocked by the boy, he had never expected Ron to act like such a self-entitled git. Well, not at the tender age of eleven anyway.

"Weasley -you must be a Weasley, what with the red hair and worn clothes- you have no right to come barging into our compartment and demanding things of us," Draco snarled, face fixed in derision.

Ron glared back, flushing an unattractive red. "Shut up! Everyone knows what kind of family you Malfoys are, all dark and rotten. I wasn't talking to you." He turned back to Harry with an expectant expression on his face.

Harry raised an incredulous brow. "First, your behavior so far has been appalling. I don't have a clue who you are, but Draco is right, you shouldn't just barge into places uninvited and make demands of people. Second, yes I am Harry Potter, but I fail to see how my identity is of any concern to you. Third, please remove yourself from our compartment. You have been nothing but loud, insulting, and rude, and I have no need for company like that." Harry purposefully kept his expression neutral, incongruent with the intentionally spiteful words. _You'll not be getting any money this time, and I'm done with having friends like you who turn their backs at the slightest hint of jealousy or success._

Ron flushed an even darker shade of red before he turning on his heel and slamming the door behind him. Being a sliding compartment door, it whooshed unsatisfyingly, making Ron's exit even more of an embarrassment.

Draco looked at him with pride and smiled. "Well done, Harry. I'm so happy you're my friend."

Harry nodded back with his own sheepish smile and turned to look out the window. The train's whistle sounded and the boys waved at the adult Malfoys, the platinum hair a beacon on the crowded platform that was only surpassed by the Dowager Longbottom's fantastic vulture hat.

They lurched forward, soon settling into a lulling rocking motion. "I'm going to go hang out in my apartment, want to come?" Harry asked, already popping open the lid with a drop of blood and whisper of parseltongue.

While he hadn't added Draco to the wards, the boy had been inside a few times before, usually after they skipped a lesson or pulled a prank and had been hiding from the adults. That was another thing Harry never would have thought of the blond: he was a genius when it came to pranking.

"Not this time, I'm waiting for my other friends. You could stay and meet them," Draco replied.

Harry shook his head. "Let me know when they're all here and I'll come out to meet them, I want to do some reading for now," Harry said, dislodging his groggy serpent and setting him into his trunk.

Draco sighed his resignation. Without Lucius to correct him the plebeian manners were forefront. "You are such a Ravenclaw," he said, like it was some terrible terminal illness, and shook his head in mock despair. Harry just grinned at the boy and climbed down into his living room.

He could still remember the look on Draco's face the first time Harry had shown him his apartment. The blond had just stared, speechless before flipping out about there being an _apartment_ in a _trunk_. He'd been far too curious for his own good though, having promptly received a nasty shock when he'd tried to go into Harry's office.

The boy had whined for days afterward and begged his father for a trunk just like it. The Malfoy patriarch had put his foot down, reminding Draco he really didn't need one. Lucius had even tried to persuade Harry to get a normal trunk for school. Obviously he'd refused, not only had he spent a fortune, he'd also grown very attached to his portable home.

The bookshelves in the living room had meanwhile been filled with various family pictures and artefacts. The portraits along with any questionable or precious heirlooms were hidden away in his office; he had done that before even considering letting the Malfoy heir in.

Morgana and Merlin hadn't gotten into any more fights, at least not that Harry knew of, so his office was still a relatively peaceful place to read or study. All four paintings were a great source of conversation and advice, and were quite happy hung so they could watch what was going on out the enchanted window. And when he wanted to avoid interacting with them all, he could hide away in his library or lab.

Rowena had assured him multiple times that she would be proud to have someone like him in her house, which had made Harry feel more confidence about his choice. Godric was perpetually trying to sway him to the house of red and gold -albeit unsuccessfully. He'd seen more than enough of those two colours in his last life, and had no wish to be immersed in their childish frivolity again.

Two of the more valuable items in his office were Riddle's horcruxes; the diary and the Gaunt ring. Harry had to remove a handful of nasty curses first, but once they were gone it was as if the Hallow was calling out to him. He had used it to contact his parents, perhaps out of sentimentality or some buried longing for approval.

His father had not been pleased with Harry's plans, and he'd gotten the impression James was insulted his son was going against what he had fought and died for. After much explanation, James had finally come round enough to understand his reasoning, at least.

His mother just wanted Harry to be happy and healthy, offering no objections to his plans besides general concern that he might come to harm. It had been an emotional roller coaster, but he was glad he'd done it. Knowing they believed in him, it meant so much more than he ever would have thought.

Left now were three Horcruxes; the cup and locket would have to wait, but he could collect the diadem once he was at Hogwarts. _Should I do something about Quirrelmort this year? I'm not for killing unicorns, but it wouldn't be awful if the man gained the Philosopher's Stone. Or I could just ignore the matter entirely._ There were other details too, _should I save Granger from the troll?_

Harry sighed, already knowing the answer from the bottom of his heart. He would never leave his past friend to die, although he could perhaps circumvent needing to, by preventing the situation in the first place.

He shook the cobwebs from his mind, _I have to focus on the present_. Entering his office, he picked a book at random. In the past month he'd barely gotten through a tenth of his hidden library of forbidden magics. Well, it was more like a floor-to-ceiling wall of expansion charmed shelves full of forbidden and Dark books.

As he'd already been an emancipated Lord when he had purchased his wand, the trace had never activated. And while that hadn't been his intention he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, happily practicing what he could of the magic he was reading about. He always made sure to clear his wand with an auror-restricted spell afterward, just in case.

Settling down with _Incantatio Agricolam_ , Harry proceeded to learn more illegal farming spells, practicing wand movements with his beechwood twig as he went. _Who knows when a rain-calling spell will come in handy?_ Eventually a light chiming sound pulled him from his thoughts. Someone was trying to get his attention.

A look out the office window showed that the compartment had become rather full in the meantime. _That must be Draco, telling me to come meet his friends. Or allies, as he calls them sometimes._

Harry put the book away and returned to his living room, making sure his office door closed behind him. Seeing Venom lounging on the couch, Harry asked, " _ **I'm going back up, are you coming with?**_ "

" _ **Yes!**_ " the snake exclaimed as he wriggled up his sleeve to claim his customary spot on Harry's shoulders, tail wrapping around Harry's arm and head resting over his heart. Snake comfortably in place, Harry climbed up out of his apartment. The buzzing compartment went silent as they all watched Harry emerge from, then close his trunk.

Eight pairs of eyes were immediately observing and judging Harry's every move. He recognised all of them. There were Crabbe and Goyle -Draco's normal bodyguards- on either side of the door. Parkinson was sitting flush against the blond, her hand resting possessively on his arm. Bulstrode was tucked between Crabbe and Nott, and across from them were Daphne, Davis, and Zabini. If not for the extension charm on the seats they'd all be terribly cramped.

"Hello, Draco. These are the friends you've told me so much about?" Harry said conversationally. He forwent the benches to sit down on his trunk by the window, where Draco had been guarding it.

Draco laughed at his friends' expense, giving Harry a cheerful nod. "Of course," he said, and rattled off their names. If Harry hadn't known them all already he'd have been utterly lost, but he gave them all smiles anyway as courtesy dictated. "So you finally decided to crawl out of your reading nest?" Draco joked, wrapping his free arm around Harry's shoulder. Seeing this easy acceptance, the rest of the compartment's occupants relaxed into their seats again.

"I had to," Harry said with a teasing glare, "someone wouldn't stop knocking."

Though he was too proud to apologise Draco did have the decency to look chastised. "Well, I wanted you to meet them," he replied with an easy smile.

Harry just shook his head and let the matter go. _Better they find me acceptable now than later, as I hopefully won't be in their house._

After the initial rigid awkwardness, the Slytherins-to-be gradually came to include Harry. Exchanging tales of their summer travels and the latest gossip, the children passed the time in lively dialogue. They each bought a few treats off the trolley, sharing them around. Harry hummed happily around his chocolate fudge bean, while Crabbe's face twisted in disgust at his sardine-flavoured one. Why they were eating the beans in the first place was anyone's guess.

Two games of exploding snap later the compartment had settled into a loose camaraderie and the others had become comfortable in Harry's presence. It was easy sailing, charming this group of children.

At least it had been until the compartment door was shoved open by a bushy haired girl with a loud voice. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville lost his," she recited, looking around the compartment expectantly. The timid boy was hiding behind her, and he squeaked as ten pairs of eyes landed on them. Nine faces held open hostility.

"We haven't seen a toad. Perhaps you should go ask a prefect to summon it for you?" Harry suggested, eager to get the two away from the vicious children surrounding him. Hermione nodded and turned, already closing the door behind her.

She was just a moment too late to prevent her from hearing Parkinson's rude comment, "and learn how to knock, you should respect your betters!"

Harry glared at her. "That was uncalled for. She was already leaving," he hissed. "Besides, not all of us here are purebloods, and you have no way of knowing her blood status yet." _Two of us are half-bloods after all, or did you forget that?_

Parkinson turned to Harry with a sneer. "If you have such a problem with it then you can leave with her," she says spitefuly, ignoring all the eyes staring at her.

"Oh? Does that go for Davis as well, then? Since you apparently have a problem with anyone of 'lesser' stock," Harry said, his voice dropping low with repressed fury.

Draco, sensing the danger, told the girl to shut up and apologise. She did, ironically because her apparent better had commanded it, and her reluctance was obvious. They let the matter rest but the previously easy atmosphere has been ruined.

"We should change," Daphne announced when it started to get dark out; Harry guessed they were about an hour away from the station. Everyone agreed and left back to where they had put their trunks to change in privacy. It wasn't until they disembarked that they fully regrouped.

Harry spotted the half-giant groundskeeper easily on the bustling platform. "Firs' years, firs' years ov'r here," he boomed. He waited for the last stragglers and, upon performing a head-count, led his large following of tiny people along the dirt path towards the lake. Parkinson was moaning about her shoes, but the rest were preoccupied with the marvellous castle that had just come into view. Lit up from within, it looked straight out of a storybook. "No more'n four to a boat now."

Harry, Draco, Nott and Zabini shared. They rode in relative silence, too busy craning their heads to sustain any kind of conversation. Harry was glad, the sight of his once-home, whole and intact, was bringing tears to his eyes. He blinked them away as the excitement bubbled inside him. Finally, he was back.

Hagrid handed them over to McGonagall and then they were walking through grand stone pillars and under arched ceilings. Harry felt strange, like there was a tingling sensation on his skin. It became intense, crescendoing in sharp pain as something snapped into place.

Suddenly he could feel everything. The corridors were echoing in the crevices of his brain. The walls were breathing. He could feel the presence of everybody, everywhere in the castle, as if the Marauder's Map had been tattooed on the inside of his skull.

Having experienced the Black family wards linked to his magic in the past, it didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. Now, as Lord of two Founders' houses and indirect heir to another, he had apparently been granted a connection to the wards of this magical castle.

He shoved everything that had just crashed into him, over to a corner of his mind. The pounding in his skull lessened considerably. _Incredible, I'll have to explore this development later._

He'd wholly missed McGonagall's speech, only tuning back in to Ron's nervous muttering about the sorting ceremony, something about fighting a troll. _Oh, the irony,_ Harry mused bitterly, reminded of what awaited them come Samhain.

Ghosts startled the first years when they streamed in loudly through the wall. Not Harry though, he had stopped being disturbed by the dead long ago. Lost in the excitement of returning to Hogwarts, he didn't mind being jostled as they were shepherded into the Great Hall.

Despite the decades that had passed, Harry felt the same sense of wonder as the first time he'd laid eyes on it. The stars blanketed them high above, the candles swayed in unseen breezes, the tables literally glittered with gold. It made him feel as though he was finally home.

A sense of relief rushed through the boy and he smiled his first true smile since waking up in his younger body. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Harry felt that everything was going to be alright.

The hat sang its song, and the sorting began.

"Potter, Harry," McGonagall finally called, and the hall went so silent that a dropped pin would have echoed. As Harry made his way to the stool he heard a sharp intake of breath from Snape. The man apparently hadn't been expecting his appearance, although the fearful look left him the second Harry met his eyes. _Interesting. Mission: Not just like my father, successful. He might even not bully me, though I'm not really expecting that miracle._

Though Quirell's eyes did flash red for a moment, there was no painful twinge in his scar from Voldemort. _I know he's there, at least. The fact I look exactly like his younger self with green eyes must have him as shocked as everyone else._

Chancing a look at the Headmaster, Harry was vindicated to see his surprise. The man looked like he'd just eaten a whole pound of lemon drops, which was to say in desperate need of a glass of water and a trip to the privy. Dumbledore tried for a reassuring twinkle, but Harry could see right through him.

He settled on the stool and let his view of the hall fall dark as the hat's brim lowered over his eyes.

 _Oh? What do we have here? Ah, you have quite the thirst for knowledge, and ambition and cunning in spades. Ravenclaw or Slytherin would suit you well. There's no shortage of bravery but...no, Gryffindor wouldn't fit at all. Nor would Hufflepuff, I think. You are very careful with your loyalty, and only work hard at what interests you._ _Hmm. Ravenclaw or Slytherin...any preference?_

Harry was amused to be given a proper choice, instead of last time's desperate mantra. _Ravenclaw, if you would. Slytherin wouldn't really be safe, even if they are friendly enough at the moment,_ Harry replied.

 _Well then, better be_ "RAVENCLAW!"

After the hat was swept off, Harry's enchanted tie and robe trim changed to show his new house. _Proud bronze and blue it is._ The Ravenclaw table was in hysterics, clapping and cheering wildly. Harry laughed at Fred and George's exaggerated bawling and made his way to his new house. _I should get my map back from them as soon as possible, it would be very helpful to have when going after the diadem._

Harry settled at the table, smiling indulgently at his new housemates. McGonagall called the hall to order and the sorting resumed. The few classmates who attempted conversation with him were promptly but politely hushed. After 'Zabini, Blaise' came Dumbledore's stupid words, then the feast, and Merlin what a feast it was! Hogwarts' elves had outdone themselves.

The first years all introduced themselves over 'would you pass the peas,' and 'you must try gravy with your mash.' Contrary to the discussion about blood status going on over at the Gryffindor table, he was glad to find most of the conversation here to be about upcoming classes.

After dinner Dumbledore warned the students away from the Forbidden Forest and third floor corridor. They then butchered the school song in their annual act of mutual eardrum homicide. It was kind of hilarious as much as it was dreadful, and Harry sang along at the top of his voice _._

Finally it was off to their tower where Harry was the first to answer the riddle, earning pleased looks all 'round.

The prefects gave a little welcoming speech before sending them, wildly yawning, off to bed. Harry was pleased to see that unlike Gryffindor tower they each had individual rooms, small though they might be. Exhausted from the long day, he opened his trunk and went to his bedroom there, deciding that he would sleep in the familiar room at least this first night.

Venom slid off his shoulders and settled under the covers as Harry changed and set his usual alarm charm for six thirty. He stifled another jaw-cracking yawn as he climbed under the plush duvet and blankets. He was out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow, dreaming of dancing lemon drops and phoenix fire.

* * *

Harry Potter had never been a morning person. Despite having to be up at the crack of dawn to do chores for the muggles, it had never stopped being a shock to his system. Which was why Harry was currently glaring at his trunk ceiling with blurry eyes and a growing twitch in his left eyebrow. The shrill shrieking noise, not unlike the scream of a banshee, had been charmed not to stop until Harry physically got out of bed. Unfortunately that meant abandoning his warm sheets and moving his pet snake, who was just as much a morning person as Harry.

" _ **Would you shut that damn thing up already!**_ "Venom hissed, slitting a single emerald eye open to glare at his bedmate. Harry sighed in defeat and slid out of bed, his groan of protest replacing the screaming alarm. He padded across the carpet to his linked trunk, yelping when he reached cold wooden floorboards. He hastily cast a warming charm on his feet as he headed for the bathroom.

A cup of tea washed down an underwhelming protein bar, _I hate living in the '90s before shopping online became a thing_ , upon which Harry found himself standing in the middle of his dorm room still wearing the sweats he had slept in. He levitated the bed near the wall and cast another warming charm, this time on the floor.

With the usual reluctance Harry forced himself to get his Monday workout out of the way, before taking a lovely hot shower and dressing for the day. He emerged from his trunk again ready to face the world, his faithful reptilian bodyguard concealed beneath his robes.

He smiled a greeting at the half-filled common room as he walked over to the notice board. In contrast to the Gryffindor one which had been full of junk, this one was well organised. After familiarizing himself with the times and locations for study sessions and homework help, he settled with a book into a comfortable blue chair near the crackling fireplace to wait for his yearmates.

It was a harmless book, as he was in public. Nonetheless _Hogwarts, a History,_ was quite informative; Granger had held it as a Bible.

His quiet was disturbed by Terry Boot. _Didn't he join the DA in fifth year?_ He had come down from the dorms alongside Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner. "Good morning Harry," the brunette said in greeting.

"Good morning Terry, Anthony, Michael," Harry greeted back. He knew that addressing them all by first name without having been given leave was a bit rude, but he wanted to foster a sense of familiarity among his housemates. Besides, Terry had set the precedent. The three boys looked at him in stunned silence before all breaking into smiles.

"Good morning, Harry," Anthony and Michael echoed happily.

"I didn't think you would remember our names. You were a little distant during the feast" Terry said, plopping into the chair next to Harry.

"Ah, I apologize. I was rather tired last night, and all the stress exhausted my capacity for company. I nearly fell asleep in my clothes," Harry explained. "What do you think our first class will be today?"

That sparked a discussion that lasted all the way to the Great Hall and through part of breakfast, only ending when Professor Flitwick handed them their schedules. _Yes! No more early Monday potions class!_ Instead it was Charms and Transfiguration, then double D.A.D.A. He studied the schedule further. _Well, I do have an early morning potions class, but on Thursdays, I can handle that. Nothing made a worse start to the week than Monday morning Potions class._

Harry was pleased with his new schedule, although so many classes with Hufflepuff meant there'd be less time spent with Draco. _I'll have to meet up with him sometime during lunch to exchange schedules. Though I can guess based off the first year Gryffindor one. Not that I really remember much besides Mondays and Fridays._ His thoughts were disturbed by a mass of ruffled white feathers landing by his pumpkin juice.

"Hey, girl," Harry cooed at his owl as she snatched food off of his mostly clean plate, "have a nice flight?" Hedwig barked irritably in reply, nipping his fingers when he tried to pet her. _I'll take that as a no._ She glared at him for a moment in dissatisfaction before taking off again, presumably for the owlery. He would give her the day to rest and bring her a letter for Narcissa after dinner, with some nice meaty bribes.

Harry joined his fellow Ravens as they headed for their first class, subtly making sure they didn't get lost along the way.

They learned all about the light charm, and despite limiting himself to non-verbal and 'wandless' magic, he still earned ten points and jealous looks for getting it on his first try. Transfiguration was the same, but only because he'd been practicing the matchstick-to-needle spell. Even channelling through his self-made blank wand was easier than full wandless magic. _I wonder if a holly branch will work better for me than this beech twig?_

He'd picked it up in the Malfoys' extensive gardens and sanded it into a passing simulacrum to his holly, the colours even matching fairly well. This fake wand was both to slow him down during lessons, and also because if he could practice his wandless magic then classes at least wouldn't be a complete waste of time.

During lunch Harry hunted down Draco for a quick chat and to trade schedules. Apparently he had already written Narcissa the news of their expected sorting, so Hedwig could rest another few nights.

Harry was almost bouncing through lunch, he was so looking forward to his next lesson. Defence Against the Dark Arts had always been his favorite class, regardless of the teacher. Of course that meant factoring out Lockhart and Umbridge, they'd never taught him a thing. _Though I'm not looking forward to Quirrel's stuttering._

The D.A.D.A. classroom smelled just as pungent and horrid as Harry remembered. As of yet Harry's scar had remained painless, but he was no fool, he knew he'd seen Voldemort's red eyes last night at the sorting. Quirrell was stuttering away at the head of the room and Harry was instantly tired of it. _No way can I handle a whole year of this!_ He was already mourning that he'd have an exact copy of his actual first year at Hogwarts, when little Susan Bones raised her hand.

He could tell it was Voldemort who answered the question, as the stutter gave way to a silky baritone and brown eyes flashed blood red. He explained the difference between dark and light magic, and despite this being to Amelia Bones' niece it certainly wasn't a Ministry approved response.

Harry payed very close attention after that but it didn't occur again. He left the room with a mild sense of dissatisfaction. _What is Voldemort up to? Why is a Dark Lord answering the questions of school children, and why hasn't he attempted to attack me yet?_ Harry's mind was in chaos as he riffled through every memory he had of the man. It was in vain, nothing offered any insight to his current behavior.

It was in this state of mind that Harry received the note, from his Head of House, requesting Harry's presence in Dumbledore's office after dinner.

 _Already? The old coot sure moves fast. Thank the Gods I have a Seer's occlumency shields. Now how should I play this? Oblivious little sheep-to-be, or the unafraid big bad wolf? I suppose that depends on how much the old man knows._ Harry sighed as he chewed his own bitter thoughts with his dinner, glancing up at the head table every so often to try and see what he could infer of Dumbledore's mindset and intentions. Harry knew the lordship rings would protect him from any obliviation, compulsion, or mind-altering potions, but he would rather not have to rely on those protections.

" _ **I'm going to be meeting with the dangerous one**_ ," Harry whispered quietly, " _ **so you need to stay completely hidden**_." Harry felt a faint movement over his heart that he knew to be Venom nodding his agreement. " _ **Thank you**_ _._ "

With the end of the meal approaching, Harry made his way to the Headmaster's office, making sure to ask portraits for directions a few times to avoid suspicion. He stood waiting against the wall next to the gargoyle for the man of the hour to arrive, crossed arms cutting as imposing a figure as a puny eleven-year-old could hope for. Within a few moments he spotted vibrant tie-dye approaching from down the hall.

"Prompt, and dare I say even a little early, my boy," the Headmaster greeted, opening the passageway with a broad sweeping gesture and jovially spoken 'Ice Mice.' Harry gritted his teeth at being called 'boy,' but quickly plastered a nervous smile on top. _Don't show him any weaknesses_.

The office wasn't nearly as impressive as before, stripped as it had been of the many Potter and Founders' family items. "Now Harry, may I call you Harry? Why do you think I have called you here?"

Harry forced himself to unclench his teeth lest his jaw go stiff. _How dare he be so familiar!_ He nodded acceptance anyway, knowing he'd have to pick his battles carefully. "I can't imagine I've done anything wrong. I've only been here a day, Professor," Harry said softly, with a careful meek mask affixed.

"Ah, you're not in trouble Harry, I simply wanted to talk to you. How are you settling in?"

 _Really, 'how am I settling in?' I've hardly been in the castle for a day! What's this really about?_ Harry bit back his first dozen replies, struggling with himself not to glare at the meddling man before him or demand answers outright. _That won't help matters any. Breathe Harry, just breathe._

"I'm doing alright, sir. It's not been long so I can't be certain, but I like it here. I enjoy my classes, at least those I've had so far, and I've made quite a few friends," Harry said with mock excitement and a very thin sarcastic undertone he couldn't swallow, rambling the way Teddy used to. _I hope Teddy and the other children are alright. Shit, don't think of them now._ His eyes watered ever so slightly, but hopefully it came across as an excited sparkle. _Is he buying this?_

"Yes, yes, how wonderful. And you should try branching out to the other houses as well, say, Gryffindor. Many interhouse friendships are formed on the Express, it is not unusual for your best friend to come from another house. Just something to keep in mind," Albus said with a grandfatherly air and twinkling eyes. _So that's what he wants. He's trying to push me into becoming friends with Weasley._

"Thank you Headmaster. I will keep your suggestion in mind," Harry said with forced awe and reverence.

Albus was eating it up like one of his many candies."Good. Now, you must be tired, I shan't keep you any longer." Harry was nearly out the door before he'd properly finished his sentence.

"Oh, and Harry," Dumbledore called, forcing him to pauses in the door frame, "if you ever need help with anything, anything at all, my door is always open."

"Thank you Headmaster." Harry turned and practically bolted away from the old man and his office.

He had raced down two corridors and was halfway down a staircase before his thoughts cleared again. _Actually_ , s _ince I'm already up here..._

Harry backtracked and made a slight detour to visit Barnabas the Barmy. His scar was basically Horcrux-sonar, so it barely took half an hour until he successfully acquired Ravenclaw's diadem. He waved to the tutu-d trolls and headed back to the common room, sour mood erased.

 _I've been here just over two months and already have the diary, ring and diadem, leaving the cup and locket neither of which are going anywhere. I wonder if I can persuade the goblins to get the cup for me? Wait, when did Lestrange even put the cup there? Was it before or after the Azkaban break out?_

A frustrated Harry solved the riddle to enter the nest of the wise. Nobody questioned him about his meeting with the Headmaster, or disturbed him as he squirreled himself away in his dorm room.

 _If I were in Gryffindor, Ron would already be trying to pump me for information._ His previous good mood popping like a soap bubble, Harry slammed open his trunk and climbed down into his living room.

The process of making and drinking a cup of hot cocoa calmed frayed nerves, and his aggression went into making chocolate chip scones.

Calm, restored to rational thought, and now _with scones_ , Harry went to his office to plot. _I have access to the first, third, fourth, and technically also the fifth of six total horcruxes plus what's left of the main soul fragment. As the soul splits in half each time, I therewith have possession of exactly 75 percent of his total soul at this moment -not including the shard in my forehead._

Harry had decided to try restoring Voldemort's soul as his first attempt to return the man's brilliance and sanity. _Perhaps having the majority of his soul attached to his consciousness will even restore his magical power level and control some. But he's going to need a body, and I need a method to extract and combine the soul shards. Preferably before the end of the year as I'm not certain when he made Nagini, and definitely in a way that doesn't depend on Voldemort possibly dying from feeling genuine remorse. Because we all know he isn't capable of regretting the actions that made him impervious to death._

 _As long as Sirius gets a trial and is freed before summer, I can fetch the locket when I go to visit him at Grimmauld Place. Maybe I can convince the goblins to trade Gryffindor's sword for Hufflepuff's cup, if it even is in Lestrange's vault. Then I would have all his horcruxes in one place and could begin merging them._

 _But what do I put them in? Should I make a golem or homunculus to store the mended soul in? Or do I put them back into an inanimate vesicle until I'm ready to combine it with the main consciousness?_

 _On that note how do I even convince Voldemort to go along with this and cooperate with me? It would make every potion, spell, or ritual I find to piece him back together again infinitely more difficult if he's fighting me every step of the way. Not to mention that we'll have to work together peaceably afterward._

 _Thank the Gods the soul isn't humpty dumpty or I'd never be able to save the man at all,_ Harry thought sarcastically as he sat there plotting. Over the next few hours, munching on his scones with tea, he drew out plan after plan, running through every scenario he could think of, any and every method of resurrection he had become familiar with in his past life and these past months.

By the time Harry was ready to fall asleep, he had a hundred papers littering his desk, an ink stain that had almost tattooed itself on the tips of his fingers, and the understanding that he didn't know nearly enough about soul magic, death magic, or horcruxes to truly accomplish anything yet.

 _Guess I'll be digging even deeper into Ravenclaw's and LeFay's vaults,_ Harry mused as he stretched and stood, absently brushing crumbs from his robes. After cleaning up he climbed back into his actual dorm room, donning fresh sweats before joining his sleeping companion in bed.

Hedwig clicked her beak in a way that managed to portray her ample disapproval. She'd been glaring as soon as it got past nine o'clock; evidently the owl had her own opinion of what constituted an appropriate bedtime, and it had been hours ago. _Oops._

 _I wonder what's going to happen with Snape tomorrow in Potions?_ Harry sighed, his thoughts wouldn't stop prowling, like some restless caged tiger. He cast his alarm and struggled to lay his mind to rest, tossing and turning as the moon arched across the sky.

Harry eventually fell into restless sleep full of angry red eyes and a pale serpentine face.

 **AN December 20, 2018: Only two more chapters before we reach totally new content. What do you think of the changes?**


	6. Griffs, Bats, and Dark Lords

Gryffindors, Dungeon Bats, and Conversational Dark Lords

That Tuesday morning began, like every Tuesday to come, in the greenhouses. It was the only class Ravenclaw shared with Gryffindor. Though it hadn't been that way before. _I sense Dumbledore had a hand in this._

But it's alright, I get to work with Neville when the boy is comfortably in his element. Which he really was.

The boy was happily chatting away as they tended to their assigned plants. Professor Sprout was farther away, walking between the benches observing and commenting on each pair's work.

Normally quiet and subdued, Neville was astonishingly animated as he walked Harry through all the various plants and fungi that he was familiar with. Both boys were skilled gardeners, but Neville was the truly passionate Herbologist. It was one of the reasons Harry had paired up with him as soon as he'd seen the mousy boy in class.

Harry was just letting Neville lead. He had his hopes that given trust and the chance to lead, the boy would open up. Harry intended to see the same self-confidence and courage from seventh year bloom in Neville far earlier. Curse his family for making the poor boy think he hardly has enough magic to rub together.

Neville was one of the select Gryffindors whom Harry was interested in cultivating a friendship with. Past his shy exterior were boatloads of charm, and a heart of gold. He had been there in the D.A. and stood by Harry in the Ministry. Then he had stayed behind at Hogwarts to defend the younger students and slay Nagini, the ultimate proof of his courage.

 _He is truly a Gryffindor, how else could he have wielded the sword? And his mother is my Godmother, which almost makes us siblings. What kind of brother would I be if I didn't help him reach his true potential? Us children of prophecy need to stick together._

Harry almost laughed aloud at that. He turned to Neville with a grin. "You're really good at this," he said, filling his voice with pride. "Can I pair up with you next time too? That'd be brilliant."

The brunette's ears burned red.

"S-sure. I...I'd like that," he said, eyes fixed on their Geranium. Harry nodded and they settled back into a comfortable routine, both smiling.

Sprout had just stopped to observe them and was pleased to the tip of her patchwork hat.

"Well done boys, these have been potted perfectly. Have five points each for the assignment, and five more for inter-house cooperation." The cheerful woman beamed at them and bustled away to help Sean's plant, which he had somehow been set on fire.

Neville looked like he was going to die of embarrassment, unable to take so much praise at once. He needs it though, especially since he had Potions yesterday morning.

Harry's stomach was in knots over his own class that afternoon. Snape had a reputation for being very stern and hard to approach, even among the first years who'd barely seen him. Going by Neville's reports, Harry thought the dour Potions master seemed less biased and bitter than last time. Although Neville had borne the brunt of Snape's sarcasm, Harry knew it hadn't been nearly as bad as it could have been. The Gryffindor had even managed to complete his potion, hopefully a precedent.

 _I wonder how Snape is going to treat me, though? The man has always been bitter, with his obsessive love for my mother and burning hatred for my father. Now that I look different I don't know which way he'll swing. Romantic obsession would be just as bad if not worse than resentment…._ Harry shuddered at that mental image. _Gods above Harry, you are disturbed._ With that firm reprimand he pushed the invading thoughts away.

Despite his child's body, he had his 37— _wait no, I'm 38 now_ —year old mind. He had seen horrors and suffered things that no man should suffer, which he would prevent from ever happening in this time. At least he hoped he could prevent it.

Yes, he would be the first to admit he was jaded, even alongside his now-lessened savior complex. He was no longer happy to leave his well-being in the hands of others, that was certain. Harry was not willing to repeat past mistakes, especially not those which had cost him most dearly.

 _Sirius will never even see that damn veil if I can help it! And Bellatrix won't get the chance to harm him._ Determination flooded him; he would see those precious to him were protected, and give the Wizarding World the kick it needed so they'd stay safe.

As Sprout dismissed them Harry bade Neville goodbye, heading for History of Magic.

It hadn't taken five years to learn it was best to ignore the ghost completely, and use the class as study hall instead. _Though I really should find a way to exorcise him, even if Binns isn't wasting my time he is wasting everyone else's. He should have left for the afterlife long ago. Hmm…perhaps I can petition the school board with Lucius' help, and get Binns replaced? Didn't Remus have a history NEWT?_

Harry's meager homework was done before Binns had even mentioned the first goblin rebellion. _Maybe I should have the Weasley twins sell Bingo grids._ Shifting restlessly in his chair, he flipped through Hogwarts, a History again for appearances' sake.

He had chosen a desk in the far corner, away from most of the sleeping or valiantly-listening students. Deciding it should be safe, Harry hunched his shoulder to whisper quietly at his chest, " _ **Venom**_?"

" _ **Yes, companion**_?" His black head blended in against the school robes. The snake's tongue tasted the air, " _ **I don't sense any danger.**_ "

" _ **Oh, there's no trouble, I'm just bored. That ghost has been lecturing on goblin wars for half a century** ,_" He huffed.

He felt the snake shake its head, re-wrapping himself around Harry's chest and burrowing into the crook of his neck.

" _ **I can't bite ghosts, they're intangible**_." Venom did sound rather sad about the fact, prompting human and snake alike to spend several moments contemplating ghostly flavors.

 _They feel cold, so maybe like ice cream? Ew. Actually, let's not think about that_ , Harry wrenched his mind back before it went too far. " _ **I'll find another way to get rid of Binns. I just wanted to distract myself awhile. When did you last eat**_?"

" _ **A lovely mouse the Sunday before we left, I will hunt for another this weekend. Though I can eat someone for you, if you need me to,**_ " Venom said with the snake equivalent of a scheming cackle.

Harry sighed his exasperation. " ** _Stop being so homicidal_** ," the green-eyed boy admonished, " _ **but actually...you could retrieve a rat for me. Preferably alive**_."

He was thinking of Wormtail, of course. That useless coward, spineless traitor and secret Death Eater. He was likely in Gryffindor tower, or in Ron's pocket, pretending to be a lovable albeit dull pet.

It would be nice to have the rat on hand for Sirius' trial. He could drop him off at the Ministry wearing magic-inhibiting cuffs and a strongly-worded letter..

Or maybe he should deliver him at the Ministry Yule Ball, by the attending members of the press, to speed along the process of getting Sirius a trial date.

" _ **And where is this rat**_?" Venom asked, " _ **is it a normal rat? Why would you want a rat? I've never seen you eat one. Is it for the pretty bird? Are you trying to make sure she doesn't fall for the silly bird**_?"

Harry huffed another laugh. " _ **It's not really a rat, but a man shaped like a rat, hiding in Gryffindor tower. He betrayed my family, and death would be...insufficient punishment. I wouldn't feed him to Hedwig even if he wasn't necessary for my godfather's release. Nor should you eat him, for that matter. He'd probably give you indigestion**_ ," Harry explained, Venom's scales cool and smooth against the calloused skin of his hand.

" ** _Traitor! I will hunt this rat for you, companion_** ," Venom declared, slithering to the floor. " _ **I will catch him, and we will punish him together**_." The snake was solemn as he sped off, so focused he barely noticed the disillusionment spell Harry had tossed at his back.

Watching his friend disappear, Harry was surprised no one had noticed him speaking parseltongue, nor seen the snake moving about. _These people are insanely oblivious, it's not like I've been hiding him._ Thankfully the bell chimed then, rousing them all from their (day)dreams.

Lunch passed without incident, thought they all joked about the pointlessness of attending their History class.

 _Lisa is onto something there. What if I skip?_ Harry knew he could pass the exams with a bit of self-study, and Binns wouldn't notice his absence, not really. _Maybe I can convince them to skip with me, we could study together. It would be our own little revolution._

Nerves pulled taught despite himself, Harry followed the others down into Slytherin territory. Oddly enough, the Ravenclaws had Potions with Slytherins in this timeline. While he was happy to be sharing a class with his cousin and newfound Slytherin friends, he was desperately wishing he could have postponed Snape's class indefinitely.

Draco struck up a cheery conversation, and Harry was glad as it eased some of his nervous tension.

* * *

When Snape showed up, slamming the door open and herding them into the lab, he did so with far less hostility than Harry remembered. Snape's dark eyes warned of impenetrable occlumency barriers, and the man's characteristic sneer appeared etched into his face.

Draco and Harry sat together in the middle worktable, already used to each other's brewing patterns. Snape took roll, and this time there were no hateful comments on Harry's name.

He then began his speech, which Harry could have recited right along with him, "...many of you will hardly believe this is magic….the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, or the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins..." he spoke about his profession like a musician, or poet. The artist in awe of his own creation.

It was hypnotizing.

His dark eyes pierced through the soul of every child in the room, as if assessing their dunderheaded-ness.

"Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel comfortable enough, not to pay attention." At this, his gaze landed on Harry, an unreadable look in his eyes.

Snape fired off the same question as last time, a look of hungry expectation about him. Whether it was an expectation for him to succeed or fail, Harry wasn't sure, but he answered correctly anyway.

The shock on the man's face only lasted an instant before disappearing behind the usual impeccable mask.

"And should I ask for a bezoar?" Snape continued, lips pinched.

"I'd worry for your health, as it's an antidote," Harry replied. "I would look in the storage cabinet, though they form naturally in goats' stomachs." Harry couldn't help himself, chasing his words with a smirk. He would lose points for cheek, just like last time, but at least this time they would be deserved.

Snape's eyebrow twitched minutely, but he didn't make any disparaging comments. Instead, he asked about Aconite. _Did he prepare what he'd quiz me with in my first class? That's bizarre._

Harry smiled as he answered, and then, to his absolute shock, Snape smiled in return. It was nearly unnoticeable, barely a twitch of the lip, but they both knew it was there. _And is that pride I see in his eyes? For me, Harry Potter? How...strange._

"That is correct, though you will find reading isn't everything," Snape said, robes flaring fantastically as he turned on his heel and stalked back to the board. "Five points to Ravenclaw."

Harry was shocked. Stunned. Thunderstruck. Severus Snape had just given Ravenclaw points, no, he had given _Harry_ points.

Draco nudged Harry playfully and, mimed picking his jaw up off the floor. A high-pitched giggle escaped Harry's mouth without his permission, but luckily the room was abustle, gathering and preparing ingredients for the assigned potion. The two began brewing, though Harry did his part on autopilot. He was too distracted by the man in billowing black robes with even darker eyes.

It came almost as a relief when, just as Harry was turning in their potion, Snape stopped him.

"Please stay behind after class, Mr. Potter," he said, voice unlike how Harry had ever heard it, "I wish to discuss something with you." Harry nodded and went back to his seat, fighting his raging curiosity as he waited for the bell. And since when does Snape say 'please'?

Just as the last student left Snape closed the door, sealing the boy in with him. "How is your home life, Potter?"

The question was unexpected, but Harry caught himself quickly.

He knew that Lucius and Severus were good friends, having seen the man in Lucius's study often during the past month. _What on Earth is he playing at, did Malfoy say something?_ Deciding to test the boundaries a little, Harry answered, "You mean with the Malfoys, or the muggle guardians I had before?"

Snape was better at hiding his surprise than Harry, but not quite quick enough. _So Lucius didn't talk, which is good. But, why else would he be asking?_

"Both, if you would. And please, sit," the man drawled, leaning against his desk with arms crossed.

Harry took the indicated stool. He swore an oath to protect me, I can trust him more than most.

"Well, my actual muggle guardians raised me until I got my letter," Harry began, deciding he might as well be truthful and see where things went. "They didn't like me much, my aunt and her family. Magic terrified them, they felt powerless over it. But I was a child, and they were a lot more powerful than me." Snape's lips pressed ever tighter together the longer Harry went on. "I don't live with them anymore though. I'm emancipated and spent August with the Malfoys."

Snape nodded, his face like he'd eaten a lemon.

The silence between them grew as the man simply stared at the boy before him. Suddenly Snape straightened and reached into his desk, hands jerking like a marionette's. He pulled out a worn muggle photograph depicting a redheaded girl with her arm around a hook-nosed boy. "I was friends with your mother," he began.

The next hour was spent sharing little childhood anecdotes about Lily.

"We should go to dinner," Severus finally stated after a glance at his wristwatch, "We can talk more at a later date."

Harry nodded his head and traipsed to the Great Hall, mind churning. His classmates were likely wondering where he'd been, otherwise he'd have gone to the kitchens instead.

 _Where was this man the last time around? I never knew he had a soft side. Well, my mother must have seen some kindness in him. At least I hope she had some standards for the people she surrounded herself with._

 _It's odd how expressive he was though. So…open…_

 _That bloody BASTARD!_

Harry fumed, realizing that he had most probably just been played. _Snape is never expressive, he's a thrice-damned double spy and he would never have survived the war without ironclad control. Which means all those flashes of emotion were intentional. That wasn't dropping a mask, it was just wearing a different one, leading me on to Merlin-knows-where. Is he trying to make me like him? So that he can get information from me later?_

Harry saw red. _Deep breaths_ , he restrained his rage from boiling over, lest he break something. _I can't believe I almost fell for Snape. I should know better._ Harry clenched his fists around his cutlery until his knuckles went white. His eyes darted up to the head table, watching the man with suspicion.

Snape glanced back at him and offered the faintest of smiles, cooling some of Harry's ire. _Perhaps I'm reading too much into it. This might be normal paranoia. Just because things didn't happen last time doesn't mean he isn't capable of emotion. I remember he could express anger and irritation just fine._

 _He isn't what I was expecting, but neither am I what he was expecting. This rage is irrational, I'll just have to wait and see._

Harry breathed out hard, then forced himself to loosen his grip. He could feel impressions from the metal on his palms. _My emotions have been going haywire ever since I arrived at Hogwarts._

It was at this moment Harry remembered the events from when he'd first entered the castle. That spike of pain, the following swell of magic, and subsequent connection to school. Could the wards be influencing me? I know I'm not usually volatile like this.

He sighed for what felt like the dozenth time that day, trying to collect himself. Wildly fluctuating emotions were never a good sign, in fact he was sure that was how Voldemort had begun his descent into bat-shit crazy. He would have to find and resolve the cause soon, lest he have some sort of breakdown at the most inopportune moment.

 _Gods, I need a drink._

* * *

Wednesday was greeted by an uncharacteristically irritable and slightly hungover Harry Potter. Bloodshot eyes blinked groggily at the coil of black and green scales on his chest. He was too exhausted to fall asleep, but was lying in bed anyway waiting for time to pass, letting his thoughts drift through the sluggish haze of his mind.

He was still worked up over his bout of irrational rage during dinner. _Why? Why am I suddenly so unbalanced? This is almost as bad as when Teddy was going through puberty—the dining room chandelier was never quite the same afterwards._

A light bulb flicked on, and despite how drained he was it set him off again.

 _Puberty. My body will be starting that soon, if it hasn't already. That must be a large part of the problem...but there's something else influencing me. Something unanticipated._

 _There's the foreign magic from the school wards, for one. I didn't prepare for that at all. And my body is still not fully healed, which doesn't help. Then there are the countless hours I've been spending scouring ancient, nigh illegible texts on dark magic for a method to save Voldemort. Not to mention the horcruxes in close proximity that could be influencing me._

 _It would be more surprising if I wasn't exhausted, and yet every worry on my mind is absolutely vital to the future._

 _Getting Sirius free. Plotting possible future paths. Working out. Familiarising myself with the current laws and figuring out how to fix them. Attending classes and completing bullshit homework. Socialising, networking, and making sure I have the right reputation._

 _No wonder I'm a bloody mess. I've been pushing myself too hard, too fast._

 _I might have been able to get away with this in my older body, but this one has suffered ten years of continuous abuse and is now going through more, different kinds of stress._

Harry sighed gustily, listening to the bell tower chime. It was two thirty in the morning, and breakfast didn't start until seven, while classes weren't until nine thirty. If Harry forwent his workout he should be able to sleep in until eight. _It's better than nothing_ , Harry mused and burrowed under the blankets.

 _Why does this stupid child's body have to use emotional outbursts as a way to force me to slow down? Couldn't it have chosen literally anything else?_

His movement woke Venom, who cracked an eye and hissed wordlessly. "Finally decide to go to sleep?" he snarked.

"Yeah, I think had a breakthrough of sorts," he said through his yawn. "Hey, you never said how the rat snatching went?"

Venom shook his head as Harry's eyelids drooped. "Go to sleep, hatchling. We can talk later about how we can punish the rat. I could..." He continued in hushed tones all he had planned.

Having set his alarm he let himself drift off, lulled by the gruesome nothings Venom hissed in his ear.

Cranky but significantly more emotionally balanced, he toasted the morning with a Hangover Potion. This is far too little sleep to be functioning on, considering this body probably needs ten hours a night. G _ods I need coffee. Can eleven year olds drink coffee?_

He almost drifted off in the shower, banging his head against the wall. Sore, stiff, and now also bruised, he towelled off and dressed for the day. _Alright, I have to plan more rest into my schedule. No more driving myself into the ground. I have time_ , he vowed to himself as he tightened the bronze and blue tie around his neck.

Venom didn't join him as he left for breakfast, instead choosing to spend the day rat-catching.

* * *

By the time Harry had made it to the Great Hall the benches were full and the platters almost empty.

Terry shot him a concerned look. "Alright, Harry? I didn't see you around and you weren't in your dorm either?"

 _Shit. I knew I had forgotten something. How could I have left my room unlocked and unwarded? Moody would've had my skin._

 _Then again, warding wouldn't be within a first year's capabilities, and that could bring unwanted attention._ "Yeah, I got up early and decided to explore the castle. Lost track of time." Harry said as he settled into his seat, plating the meager pickings. He was glad he had at least remembered a minor glamour to hide the bags under his eyes.

"That's cool. Find anything good?" Anthony asked. Many of the other firsties turned to watch.

"Yeah, a few cool spots. Some of them seem to be hidden by secret passageways, or they're password protected," Harry told his housemates. They all nodded in acceptance, chattering excitedly at the prospect of shortcuts and secret nooks.

They all trotted into the Charms room with enthusiasm. Harry settled in the back to better ignore the half-goblin's lecture. He already knew the material, and his time was better spent planning out a less demanding schedule.

 _It's time I change my exercise routines—I've been working mostly on form, I can start intensifying so that I'm done faster and am actually making gains. I should also start meditating before I fall asleep every night, to clear myself from this mental clutter and restore some balance._

 _I can put the Sirius and Lupin matters aside for now, at least until Venom retrieves Pettigrew. And there's little point planning improvements for the legal system before I restore Voldemort to sanity. He will have his own plans and then I'd have to start all over again. He has more knowledge and experience on the matter anyway._

 _Maybe I should do something to get put on the Quidditch team again. Flying relaxes me, and I always loved playing the sport. It would be good for relations with my housemates, but it'll also be so much time I have to spend training._

 _No, not yet. They have a seeker already, it's not like with Gryffindor where they desperately needed me. Besides, a first year making the team will foster resentment and envy—especially with Draco._

 _Lets see...physical and mental wellness, time to progress my goals, and a possible way to integrate myself in Ravenclaw... What am I missing?_ Harry chewed on the tip of his quill.

 _What else is influencing my emotions? I haven't been skipping meals, and I've been socialising, those are normally the first signs I'm about to run face first into a metaphorical brick wall._

 _The moodiness could be puberty, but what if it's my link to the wards? I performed all sorts of preparations and cleansing rituals before accepting Grimmauld's wards, Hogwarts' just hit me like a truck out of nowhere. Something else to look into. Next time I meditate I'll see how and where they're attached. It'll be a start, at least._

 _The only other possible influence left is the horcruxes. I know they really affected us and Ron especially, in '97. But I have to keep them close, if someone else were to find them it would be a disaster._

 _But how do I counter Voldemort's soul's influence on me? I'm literally never apart from it because I myself am a horcrux. Although I could insulate a box with lead and acromantula silk to store the others in._

 _Does soul magic even conduct the same way as normal magic? But it'll be better than nothing, at least._

Satisfied with his chosen course of action, Harry tuned back into the lesson;everybody was attempting to cast the levitation charm.

Harry performed the charm effortlessly through his blank wand, amusing himself with making his feather perform aerial tricks.

Flitwick praised him excitedly—though the half-man seemed to exist in a permanent state of excitement anyway—and awarded five points. Seeing how his classmates were struggling, Harry took a page out of Hermione's book and attempted to help.

"You're pronouncing it wrong," Harry whispered over to Padma, Parvati's Ravenclaw counterpart. They seemed nothing alike, though. For one, her brain didn't resemble a waffle. The Indian witch frowned, shifting her attention to him.

"How so?" she questioned, long hair swishing as she turned.

"It's wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa. You need to exaggerate the 'gar,'" Harry demonstrated, her feather shooting up to join his. He lost control soon after, having to surreptitiously summon them before Smith annexed them. "Now you try."

To Padma's delight she cast the charm successfully with her next try. "Thank you, Harry," she said, offering a sheepish smile, "it would have taken me ages to figure out what I was doing wrong, without your help."

"You're clever, I'm sure you would have gotten it soon," Harry reassured, "Look, Terry and Lisa have managed too."

Flitwick awarded more points; Harry was almost starting to feel bad for the Hufflepuffs. When the Professor asked, he was glad to go around and help the rest with the spell and within ten minutes the entire class had it down pat.

Thus, they were freed from the foot-long assignment, and not even as the savior of the Wizarding world had Harry seen so many adoring looks cast at him before.

* * *

Lunch was a hectic affair.

After receiving more admiration for his impeccable sense of direction, they convened with the other Ravenclaws to suffer under the Weasley twins' prank marathon. Nobody was spared, not even the teachers.

They almost missed Snape making a hasty exit, dressed head-to-toe in pink. Flitwick grew a foot taller, while Hagrid had shrunk to stand eye-to-eye with Dumbledore. Their esteemed Headmaster was lamenting the loss of his beard, not even having noticed his bright striped robes having turned black.

McGonagall's hat had switched with Sprout's, but they had otherwise been left alone. _It's good to know Fred and George are wary of someone's wrath, at least. Hopefully it will keep them from going to far, though judging by Snape's expression Gryffindor House's points will be in the negatives by the end of the week._

The prank on the students had been far more general, only giving them various coloured and patterned hair and robes. Only a handful of students had been spared, all friends of the twins. Except Harry, whom the wards had stepped in to protect. He could feel Hogwart' mother-bear protectiveness rearing up at what had been meant a good-natured prank.

As the only one unoccupied with reversing the spells, Harry was the first to confront the pranksters. "Good show, almost Marauder-worthy," Harry said as he walked up behind them.

The twins jumped slightly in their surprise.

"Look Gred, it's a little firsty," George said, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

"I can see that. Though we seem to have missed him when we went painting," Fred said, sharing a smirk.

"You didn't miss me, I'm just immune. You can't prank the heir of Prongs and Padfoot," Harry told them, internally bouncing with giddy excitement.

"Heir of—" The twins shared a glance before exaggeratedly bowing to him. "We are not worthy, oh great one!" they chanted as one.

Harry could only burst out in laughter. With tears in his eyes, he smiled at them. "Stop that, I don't need you bowing at me. I would like my map though," he said, watching as the twins straighten each other's robes.

"We'll give it you, but not the passphrase," Fred said as he handed over the worn parchment.

"Proof of identity, so to speak," George added.

They looked at him expectantly.

Harry sighed. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Ink spread through the parchment by an invisible hand, familiar words scrawling themselves across the page. Proud to present, indeed. Harry nodded to himself. "And mischief managed."

He folded it carefully and pocketed it. "A pleasure doing business with you, boys," he said with a smirk, "For your next prank, I might be persuaded to join in."

With that, Harry left the flabbergasted teens behind and went to Defence.

* * *

The class started out the same as any other, until it happened again. Quirrell's eyes acquired a red hue, his voice turned honey; the whole class was enraptured.

It was Voldemort teaching them now, not the stuttering Muggles Studies Professor. Despite his captivating lecture, all Harry could focus on was the most peculiar sensation at the back of his mind. _What? Is someone trying to use Legilimency on me?_

 _It's not the real thing_ , Harry realized quickly. _This feels vastly different from when Snape or Dumbledore or anyone else attempted to penetrate my mind._

No, the sensation was coming from inside his head, just under his horcrux scar. _I have a Seer's mental protection against people invading my mind, but can it protect from something inside me?_

 _No, of course it doesn't, otherwise I wouldn't be able to think._

 _I wonder what Voldemort wants. Is he just testing the waters, or trying to contact me? Does he even know he's doing it?_

With more thought, Harry realized that if the Voldemort of his past life could use the soul connection to plant visions, then Harry should be able to do the same. Gently, he mentally brushed against the tingling sensation, finding a small bridge between his mind and...something not himself. He traced the connection to the other side and was confronted by a Basilisk-sized Nagini's stare. _Voldemort's mental defenses, but why Nagini? He hasn't met her or made her into a horcrux yet. At least, he shouldn't have._

Instantly, Quirrell was stuttering again, leaving his passenger to face Harry. " ** _What is this_**?" Voldemort's familiar red eyes were burning into Harry with menace, though his words were clearly addressed to Engorgio'd Nagini beside him, " ** _How is he here_**?"

" _ **I do not know Master, he simply appeared**_ ," the snake said as she coiled around the man, glaring at the intruder.

" _ **Huh, I wasn't expecting that**_ ," Harry interjected, tone conversational. He was glad to see that here in a mindscape, he looked like his adult Auror self.

Red eyes widened comically as Voldemort realized that hadn't been English.

" _ **James Potter? I killed you, and now you stand here and speak parseltongue with me**_?"

Surprisingly, Harry sensed neither malice nor rage, only confusion and simmering curiosity. _I wasn't expecting him to be so...human._

" _ **Um, Harry actually. But yeah, I've been able to speak it as long as I can remember. Wonderful first memory you gave me, murdering my parents and all that**_ ," he bent the truth, another skill the horcrux had passed along to him. After the second Avada Kedavra he had lost the ability to speak the language, but had still been able to read and understand it. And hadn't that been a shock, parselscript books in the Black library. " _ **I have a snake familiar of my own, he should be around the castle somewhere**_."

The rest of the class passed in his mindscape, chatting with Voldemort. Harry was shocked to find that the man wasn't insane at all. This lead Harry to wonder why he had been so crazy when he had gone to kill off the Potters, and in fourth year when Pettigrew had resurrected him.

When Harry asked Voldemort about it, he admitted he was just as perplexed. He apparently had had no intention of going after either prophesied child, especially not that Samhain eve. Rather, he would have watched over them as they grew, carefully molding them before bringing them to his side as adults. Only if that had failed, and Harry or Neville actively opposed him, would he have moved to kill them.

With a blade, because when Fate was involved, it was folly to murder with Magic.

" _ **It was like walking through fog**_ ," the red-eyed man explained, " _ **One moment I was planning to kill a political opponent, and the next Pettigrew was taking me to your home. After that it was like I was a puppet and a stranger was holding the strings. I had a split-second after I fired the curse at you, a heartbeat where I was myself, before my soul tore me apart. I could feel my body being incinerated, burning me alive—until I wasn't alive any more**_."

Harry was stunned. " _ **That...sounds like you were being controlled. Some variation of the Imperius Curse? But Potion based, probably, it's harder to administer but way more effective on people with strong personalities. We...this…. I need to think**_."

" _It was a pleasure talking with you. I hope we can pick this up again in the future_ ," Voldemort said politely.

 _He seems to actually mean it. Voldemort, being nice. This is so strange._

" _ **Yes**_ ," he replied simply, " _until next time_." Harry followed the bridge back into his mind with nary a backwards glance; this had given him so much to think about.

Thankfully Voldemort hadn't properly realized the meaning of Harry's ability to break into his mindscape, though he would probably be making that connection soon. Harry had already put up barriers to prevent the Dark Lord for worming his way across uninvited. Voldemort will be all over that bridge, wondering where it came from and what it means.

Quirrell's stutter was especially bad for the rest of the day.

* * *

Harry was preoccupied thinking about their discussion all through his next class. He ignored McGonagall's lecture, just copying the day's notes while he ran through his encounter with Voldemort again and again.

While most of the class continued their struggles changing matches to needles, Harry tried adding a few designs to his.

"Well done, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall praised, approaching his desk, "This is a fine piece of Transfiguration. You've certainly inherited your father's talent for the craft. Now, try transfiguring back and forth between match and needle."

Harry suppressed his grimace. "Of course Professor, but I'll need more matches please." He spent the rest of the class accidentally setting his needles on fire, because he kept sparking the match as he transfigured it. It was progress; his first attempts at the Dursley's had produced headless matches, he'd never gotten the chemical mixture on the tip quite right. At least it wasn't boring.

He skipped dinner to improve upon his horcrux-storage situation and catch up on his workout from that morning. He had been tracking his progress fastidiously and still thought it pretty pathetic, especially when compared to his previous Auror body. _But at least I'm not emaciated, and I can manage two pull-ups._

Harry took a quick shower and made himself a light dinner, then settled into bed for a nap. He only just woke in time for Astronomy, and seriously considered skipping, before irritably dragging himself out of bed.

He had a hard time staying awake due to his mental exhaustion, and Sinastra's boring class didn't make things any easier. By the time it ended Harry was dead on his feet. He dropped into bed without even changing out of his robes and barely had time for a last thought before he was out like a light.

 _So much for my resolution to nightly meditation._

* * *

 **AN January 1, 2019:** Happy new year everyone! I have changed my posting schedule to twice a month, so you can expect chapter seven sometime around the January 15.

Thanks Xelena for pointing out I forgot about the Peverell lordship. I have gone back and fixed it.

How is everyone liking the improved story? As always, I appreciate your **reviews, likes, and favorites!**

Thank you to my Beta Averagefish

 **AN, December 6, 2019:** Hello Everyone, I'm back, did you miss me? Real life got in the way again lol. Anyway I'll be back to writing and posting chapters soon. This one didn't have the speech/ thought patterns properly formatted and it bothered me so I fixed it. Nothing new with this update I'm afraid. I may or may not still have a beta/co-author for this story, so if anyone would like to be a beta for me feel free to p.m. me.


	7. Fools, Rats, and Letters

Meddling Fools, Unsuspecting Rats, and Unexpected Letters

Harry, despite the exhaustion of the previous day, was up bright and early Thursday morning. The reason: he was excited for Potions.

Yes, it was true, Harry Potter was looking forward to his Potions class. Now that Snape wasn't acting like a total git or going out of his way to torment him, Harry had recovered his previous passion for the craft.

It had been Potions he had most anticipated in his first life, too, until the man had utterly ruined it with his sarcasm and bullying. Now that Snape's spitting ire was considerably cooler, Harry imagined that he'd actually enjoy class–though he wouldn't be learning much. It was like cooking's more useful elder brother.

 _Brewing again will be enjoyable. And listening to Snape's sexy voice._

Harry stumbled in the bathroom doorway, a blush slowly creeping across his cheeks. _Gah! Stupid hormones. And why Snape of all people?_

Venom had been gone when he'd woken, presumably hunting for rats. _Though it is highly unusual for him to be up this early. He hates mornings as much as I do._

Sighing, Harry stepped under the steaming spray and let the tension bleed out of him. Refreshed, invigorated, and fortified with tea, he made his way to his office.

For the next hour he revised his completed assignments. _I will be the absolute best student this year, if only to push Hermione even further with some competition._

The night before, he had lined a box with lead and acromantula silk for the horcruxes, then placed that in a warded chest. Maybe he was only imagining that his mood had improved a little. Nonetheless he could feel the hair-trigger of his emotions and knew he was still unreasonably irritable.

He hadn't been moody at the Malfoys', he was sure, but upon closer reflection he was realizing that the worst of it hadn't begun until after his meeting with Dumbledore. _What did that meddling old fool do? Was it a compulsion? A potion in the tea? Or there could be something unbalanced in the Hogwarts wards, I wouldn't put past the man to have weakened them out of dumb spite._

With a new target for his ire, he set aside an essay in favor of plotting how best to manage the Order of the Flaming Chicken's leader. Though no longer Harry's magical guardian, Dumbledore still wielded power as his Headmaster. And, Harry was subject to the man's whims through the coot's authority in the wizarding government.

That reminded Harry, of a fruitful conversation he'd had with Lucius. The Lord and Lady Malfoy had been questioning him about the muggles: what they had been like, how they had treated him, how they had responded to having a magical child in the house.

Harry had been as honest and blunt with his responses as he could, but he had let them work for the details. When he had mentioned having proof of wounds and scars which he had been healing himself of, Narcissa had become very cross with him for not having gone to an actual healer. Well, not in this lifetime, but she can't know that. She had decided to take that role upon herself, giving him a full scan. She had vaccinated him, looked over his planned treatment, and even added a potion for better bone growth.

 _I'm sure that Lucius has enough information on the muggles to file all sorts of charges. I wonder if we can use them against Dumbledore, instead? I have no intention of legally harming the Dursleys, I've made my peace. They are old wounds, let the Dursleys stay in my past._

 _But Dumbledore? He's my present. He violated his responsibility to ensure I grew up safe, as my magical guardian. I don't trust him with my well-being, he messed that up royally. How is an entire nation trusting him with their children? The troll will be here soon, maybe I'll use that as a catalyst. Dumbledore doesn't deserve all that power, and I'm one of the few who can stop him._

Harry hummed as he packed for the day and headed out into the common room, claiming his usual fireside armchair and cracking a book. _My previous timeline's Hermione would be so thrilled right now, seeing me be all studious._ He had chosen a book about the history of alchemy, with a great deal about the Philosopher's Stone within its pages.

Harry figured he might as well go after the stone again. _Though I won't be handing it over to supposedly be destroyed, that's for sure._ Limitless gold never hurt, but mostly he wanted the Elixir of Life. Voldemort would only have two horcruxes left after Harry resurrected him. Hopefully an immortality juice would serve as a kind of compromise.

Plus, it was a fact that having a larger soul would give the man more power, which ought to be a hefty consolation. _Though explaining things will be much easier anyway, it seems his insanity was some kind of enchantment rather than botched soul magic. At least if Tom's words about that night are to be believed._

"Good morning, Harry," Padma joined him not long after. Ever since he had helped her in Charms she had been warming up to him. _My distance at the welcoming feast did more damage to my social standing than I'd thought._

"Good morning Padma. Ready for class? I'm excited for the flying," Harry said, shutting his book. He had no idea how that would go, _will it be a Ravenpuff class?_ He wished he could help Neville, although he was hoping that Draco would behave without Harry there to show off for. _It all depends on how badly Ron puts his foot in his mouth….I don't have my hopes up._

Regardless, Harry would be keeping his head down, next year was early enough to make the House team. This year he'd be busy learning, resurrecting Voldemort, and saving his godfather.

Padma flung herself onto an adjacent couch, ready to speculate. "Yeah, I mean I'm a little nervous about flying, but it should be fun...right? The first class can't be too difficult."

"I'm sure it'll be easy stuff, but still great. Have you flown before?" Harry asked.

"My family has a flying carpet, but it's not the same. My mother always steered."

"I've never been on a carpet before, but I can promise you broom flight is the most wonderful thing. The wind beating against your skin and hair, stealing the breath from your lungs. It's exhilarating."

"Wow Harry. I never knew you were so passionate about flying. It's not just about Quidditch for you is it? You just honestly love to fly," Padma said, and Harry couldn't help his blush at being so easily seen through.

"Yeah," he muttered. _This isn't Slytherin but that doesn't mean I can just let my guard down like that._ He promptly buried himself back in his book, trying to will away the ridiculous bout of nervous embarrassment. _I'm a grown man, dammit, I shouldn't be blushing just 'cause I got a little excited._

At that moment Mandy and Lisa came down, promptly joining Padma in whispers and giggling. _Great, this is going to come back to haunt me somehow, I just know it._

As soon he could without it looking like he was fleeing, Harry left for the Great Hall.

As far as he could tell, the Ravenclaw first years had formed steady groups already. The three boys Anthony, Terry, and Michael; the girl trio Padma, Mandy, and Lisa; the unaffiliated Kevin, Stephan, Su, and Morag. And Harry, slightly offset from the rest.

He'd really only interacted with the three boys, and with Padma. _It has only been a few days, while most of them have known each other since early childhood. I just need to give it time. Stop rushing, Harry,_ he reprimanded.

Breakfast played stage to little drama and Harry was left alone to eat his meal in quiet thought. His good mood rushed back as his feet tread the familiar stone steps down to Potions.

Snape seemed to be oddly happy as he explained the Hiccoughing Potion. While lecturing about the ingredients, their properties, and the importance of proper preparation, he was uncharacteristically generous with House points.

Harry earned a whopping five for a well-made potion and an O for the assignment. _Maybe he really is different this time around,_ Harry mused as he settled back into his seat, wanting to use the rest of class to get a head start on the essay.

"Mr. Potter?" Dark eyes burned against Harry's as he looked up.

"Yes Professor Snape?" he replied, confused. _Everything was going so well, where did I go wrong?_

"As you have completed your potion, you are free to go," the man said, stalking over.

Harry blinked. Snape is letting me out early?

"Yes, sir." Harry began to pack up, finishing just as the Professor reached his desk.

"Would you, perhaps, be amenable to joining me for dinner?" The words were whispered so lowly that Harry wondered if he heard them right.

"Of course, Professor. In your office?" Harry said, equally hushed despite the privacy charm surrounding them.

"Six o'clock sharp," the man confirmed with a nod, sweeping past the confused boy to continue peering over shoulders.

Harry shook his head at himself and left the classroom, glancing back as the door swung shut to watch the man's cloak swishing between the workbenches.

 _He's acting strange. A private dinner? What could he possibly want? To tell me more about my mother?_

* * *

Harry was pulled from his train of thought when he caught sight of a familiar snake. There was a rat held loosely in his jaw, twitching in panic. It struggled its tiny paws, showcasing a missing finger.

An evil grin stretched across Harry's face, though he stifled his maniacal laughter. He could feel vindictive sadism already bubbling in his chest. _Oh this is going to be fun._

" _ **Venom**_ ," Harry hissed sweetly, " _ **is that what I think it is**_?" His eyes gleamed with unrestrained malice.

"Y _ **eth hat-th-ling**_ ," Venom hissed carefully around the vermin in his mouth. " _ **Wh-ere sh-th-all I puth him**_?"

" ** _My room_** ," Harry directed, scooping up his friend and heading for the nearest shortcut to Ravenclaw tower. Thankfully the halls were deserted. I don't even want to imagine the rumors should someone see me running like a berserker, grinning madly. It barely took four minutes and he was setting Venom down again on his office desk, exchanging the rat animagus for a thawed mouse.

"Pettigrew. How nice of you to join us," Harry said. "Though I suspect you're not here of your own free will. It's my will, though—Fancy that."

The rat twisted into rat-like man; fat with fingernails long overgrown. Watery eyes watched as Venom unhinged his jaw to better eat his treat. "H-harry, how-"

"Crucio." It rolled easily from his tongue. _What did Bella say again, you need to_ mean _it?_ He revelled in the screams of the man who had betrayed his parents.

"Now now, Peter. None of that," Harry said, cutting off the spell. _I don't want to overdo things this early in the game. I need him later. No permanent damage, nothing that will negate his ability to tremble in court._ "I already know what happened, what you did, how you sold out my parents." He regarded the man panting on the floor of his office with unrestrained glee.

"Oh don't worry, I won't kill you. You're more useful alive, after all," Harry twirled his wand as he stalked around the man, watching him like a jaguar that had sighted its next meal. "I'm just gonna hurt you a little. Nothing…permanent."

Harry spent the rest of the time until lunch happily torturing the helpless heap of flesh into near-insanity.

"Watch him. Make sure he doesn't go anywhere," Harry instructed his sleepy snake as he cleared the spell history on his wand. One can never be too careful about that.

 _And, who knew torturing someone would work up such an appetite?_ Triple-checking for blood on his robes, Harry hurried for a late lunch.

* * *

He spent the rest of the day on cloud nine. The flying class with the Hufflepuffs was incident- and drama free, though Hooch did pull him aside together with a few others to recommend they try out next year.

Which left him windswept and giddy on Snape's doorstep, curious about what dinner would bring. Harry actually enjoyed eating in a more intimate setting, listening to Snape talk.

It turned out the man had just wanted to speak more about his mother. And while Harry certainly didn't mind, he had to wonder why. At some point he couldn't restrain his curiosity anymore.

"Professor, as much as I appreciate you taking the time to tell me about my mother," the words rushed out, "why are you doing this?"

Snape just stared at him for a while, dark eyes glinting in the low light with a hint of Legilimency. _Let him try, Fate and Magic are protecting me._ "Because I loved your mother, and you are not...what I had been expecting," he replied, voice silky as ever. "And because you deserve to know the kind of woman she was."

He paused for a long moment, chewing as he chose his words. "Talking about her is helping me heal from the loss."

Harry hadn't been expecting such brutal honesty. _He really hid a lot of depth behind all that anger and bitterness._ But before Harry could formulate a reply, they were interrupted by a knock on Snape's door.

It opened to reveal the Headmaster clad in pinstripe, his half-moon spectacles doing nothing to hide the manipulative glint in icy eyes. "Ah, so this is where you've been hiding…and you've stolen away young Harry."

There was a spasm building above Harry's right eye. "Headmaster, the Professor hasn't stolen me. He was just telling me about my mother," he said stiffly, failing to fully bury his irritation. _Yup, the old man is definitely the one responsible for my moodiness._

"Oh? That's wonderful," the Headmaster replied with a cheery smile, "Unfortunately it is almost curfew and you should be heading up to bed, my boy. Come, I will walk you up."

Harry plastered on a pleased mask. _Meddling fool. I'm not some princess to be locked away!_ "Of course Headmaster. Thank you, Professor, for inviting me to this dinner." The Potions master nodded once and turned away, looking about as thrilled with Dumbledore as Harry felt.

"Ah, before you retire for the night Severus, I have something to discuss with you," Dumbledore added, oblivious to the hostility coming at him from both sides. He cast a sideways glance at Harry before smiling at the grumpy Professor. "We will talk once I have brought this one back to where he should be."

 _Ha, if you'd had your way I'd be in a different tower and Snape and I wouldn't be discussing anything,_ Harry thought bitterly.

* * *

Dumbledore revealed the true reason behind his intrusion as they walked. "Any progress on the friend-making my boy?" This time Harry felt the sticky tendrils of compulsion wrapping across his skin, almost as fast as Hogwarts' wards was snapping them away. It was almost a relief, to know. _That's what it is. I'll have to do a full cleansing later and check on the school's ward stone._

 _Well, two can play at this game._

"Yeah. I have lots of new friends," Harry jabbered, recalling his children's gushing enthusiasm over the most mundane things. "I met Neville in Herbology class and I think he'll be a great friend. Lots of the Hufflepuffs have been great. We share so many classes. I'm friends with Terry and Padma too!" Harry internally smirked at the man's souring expression. He had done what Dumbledore had asked, just not with whom he wanted.

Harry already knew that Neville wouldn't spy on him. He had refused to do so in his past life, and there was no reason for that to be different now. Neville'd always had steadfast morals, which he upheld unfailingly against friends, teachers and the Dark Lord himself.

"That's wonderful my boy," Dumbledore said, voice slightly strained, "I'm so glad you found some use for an old man's advice." His blue eyes were twinkling madly.

Unfortunately for him, Harry had built up an immunity to his manipulations. _So he goes back to playing that angle. Surprisingly predictable–I'm not sure how to feel about that._

Harry beamed up at the man as the eagle knocker came into view. "Thank you for waking me back to my tower, Headmaster," Harry said sweetly.

"Of course, of course. Pleasant dreams, my boy," Dumbledore said, turning back the way they'd come.

 _I wonder what he wanted to talk to Snape about. Well, I can always find out later. I have more pressing matters than an old fool soon to be out of power._ Harry nodded to himself.

Lost in thought, he made his way to his apartment, only to be roused by a fearful whimper.

Venom had the pudgy man huddled in the corner of his office, Harry was amused to see. Pettigrew was a pathetic sight, bearing lacerations and burns from earlier, and Harry can't help his malicious grin.

But now was not the time to be foolish or reckless; Pettigrew must not escape. Spelling him back into his animagus form, Harry locked the rat in a reinforced cage.

He contemplated what he wanted to do next. With Pettigrew in his possession he had everything he needed to free Sirius. The question was when, how, and whom to involve.

Decision made, Harry settled at his desk to write a letter to one Lucius Malfoy, sadistic joy bubbling happily in his chest.

* * *

He had his vengeance on Pettigrew, plans in the works to ruin Dumbledore, and had so far kept himself distant from the redheaded cancer.

But he was unsure about the others.

Harry had always gotten on with the twins, and even now he could see himself becoming friends and pranking with the tricksters. He had already begun laying down the groundwork with Neville, who deserved better for how honest and trustworthy he was. Draco was a welcome and novel addition, as were the other Slytherins in their year. The Ravens so far had been good study partners and were friendly enough–though he'd have to get far more involved next year when Luna arrived.

One of the main issues was how to handle Hermione. Harry had seen her as the sister he'd never had—before he'd discovered her corruption. And while he couldn't stand her know-it-all attitude, he really wanted to help her thrive in this world of magic. If she could learn to be less nosy they might become fast friends again, opening new doors for her. Maybe her and Neville? Though he'd have to make sure Hermione didn't trample the poor boy with her overbearing.

Which brought him to the final issue: Voldemort. He was vastly different than expected and now Harry's plans had been upended. He was sane, at least within his mindscape. The story about that fateful Samhain tugged at the heartstrings—but could Harry trust him? Was the man villain or victim, or perhaps both?

Granted, Harry had been planning on bringing him back so he could finish what he'd started—preferably with less bloodshed—but needing Voldemort and actually forgiving him for the atrocities in Harry's previous life were two different things. Harry would work with him, to overhaul the wizarding world and protect them from the muggles. That didn't mean he had to like him.

Harry had wanted his revenge, of course. When he had woken up in this time the first thought had been to find Voldemort while he was weak, and let out all his bitter pain. But the man was far more useful alive, a more valuable friend than foe.

Although there was nothing stopping him from killing Voldemort later, once their common goals had been accomplished.

But if Voldemort really hadn't been himself, it meant he was innocent of that night's murder, and that changed things. He couldn't hate the man if he was an unwilling victim, rather than an evil madman hellbent on muggle genocide.

Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair in an attempt to alleviate a budding headache.

The room suddenly brightened as the window filled with feathered white. Hedwig was gone from view just as quickly, as she hopped into the trunk for a late-night visit. Barking softly she landed on his desk, parchment clutched in her talons. Harry smiled and gave her a treat, stroking her soft head as he checked the envelope before untying it.

"Hey girl, where did you get this from?" Harry questioned. It was plain cream parchment, sealed with the sign of the Hallows in black wax. _This is highly suspicious._

"Well, I suppose you can hardly say. Think you'll be up for a delivery come morning?" Harry continued to pet her soft feathers.

She nipped his fingers gently. _That's an 'of course my silly human', then._

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "Here, take it with you when you're ready," he said, showing her his letter for Lucius.

Stretching and suppressing his yawn he stowed the mystery scroll in a heavily warded drawer, it was too late and he wanted to be fully alert when he dealt with it. _A relaxing bath is exactly what I need before it's off into Morpheus' arms I go._

* * *

Friday bore witness to a rare occurrence: Harry actually woke before his alarm. Green eyes opened to dawn light, a tempus revealing he had almost a full hour to bask in the warmth of his blankets. There was no wailing banshee, no muttering snake, no urgent matters requiring he attend them.

 _But I'm awake, I might as well do things._ With a sigh he shifted Venom to his pillow, slipping out of bed to begin the day.

Hedwig had already left when Harry sat at his desk, mug of strong tea in hand. Hopefully his feathered companion would soon return with good news. Peter was somehow asleep, oddly peaceful in his cage. Besides an eye roll Harry let him be.

His curiosity over the mysterious envelope had gnawed at him all through his dreams last night. He examined it for curses and compulsions a second time before breaking the seal.

Inside the envelope were two more, but the only spells he could find were truth spells laced into the paper, expansion charms, and an identification charm keyed to him.

Still suspicious but far too curious for his own good, Harry picked up the first and opened it, removing the crisp paper held within.

* * *

My dearest Harry,

If you are reading this then I have passed on, and while it pains me to write this I cannot leave you without guidance for what is to come. I am so sorry, my precious son, but our world is at war. Though I fear I will not survive it, I must ensure your future even if the cost is my life.

Know that I love you, with all my heart and soul, and wish there were some other way to protect you from the horrors that undoubtedly await.

You are not the first child in our family born with a prophecy hanging over them. Rather, it runs in the family, with a prophesied child nearly every other generation. It is a gift and curse from our ancestors Merlin and LeFay.

I never wanted this for you. I never wanted the burden of Fate's expectations resting on your shoulders.

Unfortunately my greatest fears have been realised: you were foretold as vanquisher of a Dark Lord even before you were born. Whether you decide to honor this or not is now up to you—but the price will be your humanity.

I am sorry my son, because I have stolen your humanity from you. Not that you cannot be kind and good, but you cannot be human.

You see, all Evanses have creature blood. This creature side is always bound at birth and can resurface on the thirteenth, sixteenth or nineteenth birthday. I have made it so you will receive your creature inheritance, which could manifest as any number of things.

The Emrys family had many demonic entities like incubi, lamia, and dementors. The LeFay had dark creatures like vampires, draken, naga, and werecreatures. Ambrosius blood brought forth avians like veela, harpies, and seraph. Finally, the Evans family has historically born fae and royal elves.

Any of these are possible, or some creature influence from the Potter or Black families. You may even have multiple because of what I have done.

My trunk in the Potter family vault has books on all these creatures, they will be of some help to you. I hope you can forgive my meddling, I only did it in hope you would find happiness and the freedom to make your own destiny.

Know that I love you, and am proud of you. Regardless of your chosen path you will have my support, even if it has to be from beyond the grave.

Always your loving mother,

Lily Potter neé Evans

* * *

Harry leaned back in his chair, shell-shocked.

 _This letter didn't exist in my last run through. I never found any from my parents, and to my knowledge there was no history of prophesied children in my family._

 _Magic, Fate, and Death had said something about changes because I was coming back with knowledge...but surely things couldn't have been changed from before my birth?_

 _Or maybe I never saw it because Dumbledore or Ginny destroyed it? I didn't go into my vaults or develop any interest in my inheritance until after I killed Voldemort in the last run through. But I should still have found mum's trunk in the Potter vault._

 _Where on Earth did Hedwig get this?_ Harry took a deep breath to stifle the bubbling panic.

 _Regardless of where it came from, the truth spells in the parchment means it must be true, or at least Lily believed it was. I have to trust her when she says I am not human. She knew she wasn't muggleborn, that she had her own heritage._

 _I wonder why?_ Harry shook his head, there were more important things.

 _Why did I never have a creature inheritance?_

 _When I first went to Gringotts in this time, I had so many more vaults. What on Earth is going on here? Are these changes because I came back in time, or something else entirely?_

 _What could stop a creature inheritance from manifesting? There are potions and spells to dampen instinctual behaviors, but to my knowledge nothing can completely stop the creature, it is too much a part of the person._

At this Harry froze. Potions, spells, rituals: Dumbledore had done everything imaginable to keep Hary ignorant and controlled. _Is it possible? But, no, he wouldn't have changed my very blood!_

His mind raced to the unsavory conclusion.

 _Yes, he would._

That led to two major questions. _Did Dumbledore already know in this time, and what did he use to stop it in my past?_

If Dumbledore already knew, that that meant Harry was in danger of more meddling. _The old coot could already be slipping me poison!_ Harry resolved to check his food any drink from now on, _I should have been doing that from the start._

 _Where did Hedwig get this letter? And on that note, what does the second letter say? Is it from my father?_

Harry slumped, massaging his temples. He was exhausted and the day had barely begun.

The other letter would have to wait until after classes. Mind still reeling he locked the words away. It was time for breakfast. With his snake and bag on his shoulders Harry made for the common room, warding his room behind him. Even without an appetite he had to eat.

 _I can freak out about this at the weekend._

* * *

Through breakfast he worried about the location of the ward stone, he had to run his diagnostic soon. The living map impressed in his mind was being exceedingly unhelpful, lighting up entire corridors when he tried asking its primitive intelligence.

The gossip of the morning passed over him entirely, his first proper interaction of the day occuring when he greeted Neville for Herbology. Thankfully the mousy boy had begun to open up, filling in most of their dialogue himself. Harry couldn't help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm.

They earned more points for good teamwork, somehow pushing thoughts of the morning's upheaval from Harry's mind. Near the end of class he decided to plant the proverbial seed.

"What happened to that toad of yours? Did you guys find it on the train?" he asked, eyes more alert than they'd been all morning.

Neville perked up."Yeah, we did as you said and found a prefect. He summoned Trevor for me and I've been more careful since!"

Harry smiled in return. "I'm glad, and what about the girl you were with?" he questioned, eyes wide.

Neville frowned minutely. "Hermione? She sorted Gryffindor too, look, over there." He pointed, his face falling. "Did you want to talk to her?"

The bushy haired girl had been forced to partner with the redheaded menace. were arguing, dirt flying as a Fanged Geranium flailed in the boy's constrictive grip.

"Are you friends? It was really nice of her to help you on the train," Harry asked, still watching her and Ron in fond exasperation.

Neville bowed his head. "A-actually, I haven't talked to her since," he said, "Ron—the redhead—is always complaining about her, she's bossy but she's really clever."

Harry frowned at him disapprovingly. "Shouldn't you defend her? I mean, she is your friend isn't she? I'm sure she would do the same for you. Besides," he joked, "she looks like she could use some non-hostile company."

Neville nodded, biting his lip. "You're right. I'll talk to her at lunch."

Harry let his pride leak into his voice. "You're a good friend, Neville."

 _Excellent, if all goes to plan I won't need to save my bookworm from the troll after all._

* * *

AN January 13, 2019: I'm giving this to you guys two days early, but I'm sure you wont mind that. Thank you to all the people that have liked, favorited and reviewed so far. I really appreciate it. And again, a big thank you to my co-author Averagefish!


	8. Unexpected Developments

Unexpected Developments.

Harry was bored. Utterly and completely bored. Binns' droning voice could put even the most studious students to sleep and Harry was having a hard time resisting the seductive call of dreams as he stared blankly out a window. He maintained that History of Magic was a complete waste of his time, and having the class right after lunch was a horrible idea—at least if you actually desired for the students to learn anything. Most of them had already succumbed to their full stomachs and Binns' voice, slumbering away with heads laid over folded arms.

The near silence of the class made it hard for Harry to keep his mind off the events of that morning. His mother's words were echoing in the back of his mind, driving him to distraction. He was very worried about the contents of that letter. A family plagued by prophecy, an inevitable creature inheritance in the works, and the alarming realisation that his life had never, even for a moment, truly been his own. All due to the machinations of a twinkly-eyed old man, and worth stressing over in Harry's humble opinion.

 _I can't believe I never knew about my mother's heritage,_ Harry was fuming. He had held back his anger and confusion about discovering his mother wasn't a muggleborn since Gringotts, but recent events had forced him to consider why he had never known about it before.

 _Why wasn't I told when I claimed my inheritances at seventeen? Surely I was still eligible for them? And mom clearly knew about her heritage, at least according to the letter sitting in my office at this moment. Is it because I didn't do an inheritance test last time? But why wasn't anything written in her will?_

At this thought Harry paused, suspicion narrowing his eyes. He had never thought to question his parents' wills, but now he could see the multiple discrepancies between what he knew to be true, and what the most likely course of action would have been, based on his parents' characters.

 _Mom and Dad's wills seemed odd when they were finally read. For one, they left stuff to Pettigrew, but not Lupin or Black. I know that they were all friends, so why leave stuff to one but not the others? Then there's the massive amounts of money given to the Order of the Phoenix, and especially the Weasleys._

 _Why the Weasleys in particular? Sure I grew close to them, but all that was after my parents had died_ _—_ _they couldn't have possibly known the future. Also, wouldn't they have left stuff for Neville or the Longbottoms? Alice Longbottom was my godmother, so she must have been a close friend of my mother or father._

Harry considered the possibility of the wills having been somehow altered or changed, but ultimately he disregarded the idea. Once a will had been submitted to Gringotts, the only person who could alter it was the original author.

That would not stop someone from using spells or potions to confound or control a person as they were making a will, but there was usually some kind of truth oath said at the beginning to confirm free speech. _Though my parents didn't say any such oath...they just started listing beneficiaries, who should get what._

Harry had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. The thought that his parents might have been forced into writing it to someone else's specifications was highly alarming, that Gringotts would honor it even more so. Harry decided then and there that he needed to get to the bottom of this unexpected mystery.

" _ **What has you so distressed, hatchling?**_ "inquired his green-eyed snake. Harry glanced down at Venom and felt his lips twitch up. The reptile was watching him with obvious concern, black tongue flicking rapidly as if trying to taste the source of his discomfort.

" _ **I have discovered some unsettling news, possibly related to the meddling fool, and I'm currently trying to decide what to do about it**_ _.,_ **"** Harry replied to his friend, petting his cool scales in an attempt to soothe.

" _ **I could always just bite the man and put him out of everyone's misery**_ ," Venom said, nuzzling Harry's palm affectionately.

Harry laughed despite himself. " _ **I wish it were so simple**_ ," he replied, " _ **but just killing isn't enough, I want him to suffer. And the best way to do that is by taking that which he holds dearest**_ _ **—**_ _ **his power and his reputation**_ _._ "

" _ **Alright, but if you change your mind you'll let me know**_ ," Venom said and snuggled back beneath clothing, face in the crook of Harry's neck.

 _Life is so much more straightforward if you're a snake._ Harry smiled, shaking his head at his homicidal familiar.

A glance at the clock ticking away through Binns' incorporeal head let Harry know he was almost free.

Feeling a little calmer now that he'd had time to process, his curiosity was resurfacing. He knew he had creature blood but the question was, which? They all had their various benefits. Wings, most obviously—there were days he felt part bird already. _Surely there is some way to figure it out before the inheritances manifest._

 _There's just so much I don't know!_ Frustrated, he added another topic to his growing mental list to research.

* * *

Harry was once again distracted all through the evening meal, only occasionally rousing himself from his thoughts when the children drew him into conversation. He was pleased and a little smug to see his mousy friend sitting and chatting amicably with a bushy-haired girl at the Gryffindor table. _Seems he followed my advice._

Just as the students were rousing to return to their common rooms for the night, a loud explosion erupted in the Great Hall, dispersing coloured smoke across the room. The smoke dyed everything it came into contact with, resulting in a large number of disgruntled and multicoloured children. At the center—and equally painted—was a pair of not-so-redheaded twins sharing a devious grins.

It didn't take long for the stunned silence to be filled with loud, near hysterical laughter as a very displeased no-longer-grey-haired witch began her scolding.

This time, Hogwarts' wards had stayed out of it, letting Harry fall victim along with everyone else. His skin had been coloured various pinks, purples, and browns. His once black raven's nest was now a kaleidoscope of pastels. Harry couldn't help the amused smile that graced his lips or the childlike laughter that bubbled up from his chest at the sight of the room around him and his own humorous appearance.

 _Those troublesome trickster twins,_ Harry mused, trying in vain to stop his face-splitting grin. Said twins were sheepishly watching a very stern McGonagall as she berated them for their childish behavior -but Harry could see the smallest of smiles in the upturned corner of her lips. _She's just as amused as everyone else, even if she wouldn't openly express that amusement._

Finally, the Hall was called to order, and after being told that the dye should wash off with simple soap and water, the children were dismissed to go and bathe. Harry decided that he would rather not inspire suspicion from his housemates, so after stopping by his room to drop off a complaining Venom and acquire his toiletries, he joined the line for the showers.

The Ravenclaw bathroom was different to the one in Gryffindor, probably because of the superior space expansion charms Rowena herself had supposedly cast. Stalls were on both sides of the long room, with a large communal oval sink down the middle. The showers were in small niches, and there was a bit of a queue.

He folded his clothes and put them in one of the pigeonhole cubbies, then took his place in the line of towel-wearing teens all desperately looking anywhere but at each other.

Harry's flip-flops squeaked across the cold tile floor as he finally claimed the next free shower. The room was so heavy with steam that his towel was already mildly damp. He draped it to form an insufficient curtain and began to rinse. The water going down the drain looked like a muggle unicorn had sicked up.

Only when after _three_ _rounds_ of soap, the water ran completely clear, did he deem himself properly clean from the prank. _Rinses off easily with water, my arse._

As he towelled himself dry-ish he saw most of the other boys had finished, with only two still waiting. Harry was on his way over to his clothes when he slammed into something.

Two boys fell down in a tangle of limbs, Harry thankfully too light to do any real damage as he crushed the person beneath him.

He pulled himself up only to come face to face with a blushing Robert Hilliard. The prefect's hair was nearly black, clinging to the pale skin of his neck. His brown eyes were wide in shocked embarrassment. Harry realised why when he felt their completely bare skin touching—and sprang up as if electrocuted.

"Ah, sorry Hilliard," Harry said, a blush crawling onto his cheeks as he wrapped his towel more firmly around his waist. "You alright?"

"Don't worry about it, Harry, it was my fault." Hilliard scrambled up and covered himself again. Awkwardness hung heavily between the two flushed boys. "No harm done, right?"

"Yeah I'm fine," Harry said as he tried to avert his eyes from the endless expanse of glistening skin.

"I'm glad," Hilliard replied, a little less awkward now that he wasn't standing in the buff before the boy who lived.

 _There is really no reason to continue this conversation._ "No problem,' Harry said and all but bolted for his cubby to yank his clothes on. When he turned back Hilliard was thankfully gone, not that it stopped Harry from running out.

 _Never again. I am never showering in the dorm bathroom again!_ Harry shivered as he barricaded himself in his room. He took a few moments to get himself under control and trample down his very inappropriate thoughts. _He was barely old enough to have hairs on his chest! First Snape, now Hilliard, by the Gods I'm eleven! Get a grip,_ Harry admonished, making his way to his trunk.

" _ **How dare you leave me in here like this!**_ "a very angry and fluorescent snake demanded as soon as Harry stepped into his living room. Harry just stared at his companion for a moment before bursting out in laughter for the second time that hour. Venom got progressively more angry the longer Harry laughed at his reptilian familiar's misfortune.

" _ **I'm**_ _ **—**_ _ **sorry**_ _ **—**_ _ **Venom**_ _,_ "Harry gasped as he tried to regain control of himself. " _ **I can't**_ _ **—**_ _ **help it**_." He wiped the tears from his eyes. The tension from his encounter with Hilliard bled out of him with every chuckle. " _ **Here, let's get you cleaned up. As funny as this is I'm sure you don't appreciate being bright blue and purple**_."

" _ **Of course I don't you insensitive human!**_ "Venom hissed irritably as Harry carry him to the bathroom. The boy made quick work of washing his testy snake and even gave him a nice mouse as an apology.

With his familiar clean and bribed happy again, Harry deposited Venom onto a pillow and made his way to his office so he could check on Pettigrew. The rat was still in his cage, but had woken up and was staring fearfully out at Harry as he entered the room. The wooden door closed behind him with a foreboding thunk.

A small torture session ensued, but Harry was careful not to make a mess this time. The rat passed out from pain or fear, had to be one or the other because it certainly wasn't blood loss, and Harry was left with nothing more to distract himself. Hedwig was still gone, probably waiting for a reply from Lucius.

Harry sighed as his eyes caught on the warded drawer his mystery letters were in. The day had been filled with nothing but drama, and unfortunately it did not appear as though that would end anytime soon.

He could continue to put off reading the second letter, but the curiosity gnawing away at him insisted otherwise. Unopened it had infinite potential to be good news, or bad. In a way he wished he didn't have to find out, because he knew it wouldn't be easy by any means. Nevertheless he settled into his high-backed chair and opened the envelope addressed to him. Inside were a folded letter, two sheets of paper, and an oddly shaped pendant.

The pendant appeared to be a carving of three moon phases centered in a large silver circle, entwined with blooming vines. The first moon phase, waning crescent, was made of blue lace agate. The second was a full moon of moonstone. The last, waxing crescent, was made of smoky quartz. Behind the moons, encircled by the silver ring and vines, was a polished lapis lazuli. The flowers on the vines were made of azurite on the right and labradorite on the left.

The pendant hung from a silver chain and radiated power.

Harry just looked at the necklace in stunned surprise. He had seen this pendant before, but only once very briefly. This was the pendant of Kader, a lost ancient elven artifact that was said to give the wearer protection against misfortune. The Lady Fate had been wearing it when she and the others had offered him his deal of a lifetime. _Why on Earth it was it here?_ Harry set the pendant aside and opened the first letter.

* * *

Darling Harry,

We are sure you are surprised, confused, and mildly suspicious over recent events and discrepancies that have occurred since your arrival in this time—most notably your heritage and your mother's letter. This was a direct result of our actions, and it is only fair we explain some things now.

You see, we lied. Well not lied—more like carefully misled you—the night we made our deal. While we did send you back in time, just as you agreed to, we also meddled a little.

The first thing we changed was your mother's history. The Lily Potter neé Evans you were originally born to was indeed a muggleborn. But with some careful shifting of threads, we managed to give you the additional lordships and heirships.

The second thing was that we granted you two creature inheritances. We probably should have asked, but really it's nothing too crazy and you'll be thanking us later. Being part creature means your partners will be _mates_ , who will be irrevocably true to you. You will never have to fear the infidelity or betrayal of a loved one again and you will know without a doubt that your children are indeed yours.

And finally, we tweaked Tom Riddle's mind do make him sane. His most distasteful acts, in this new world, were the result of manipulation and spells. Magic has always favored him as her champion, and now we hope that you join him in restoring Magic to her previous might and wonder. Were you to accept him as a mate, it would make us all happier.

We truly went above and beyond for you when we gave you the blood of two creatures. Some things you must learn for yourself, but we will tell you what and when.

You will come into a fae inheritance, skewed to the wind nature, upon your thirteenth birthday. Three years later, you will come into a dark royal elf inheritance. We will leave discovering the implications and how to deal with those new inheritances to you. We believed you would be happier having the freedom to choose your own lovers, so we did not assign mates. However they must be male and you must have at least three. You are free to take on female lovers if you so wish and even have children with them if you so choose, but no woman can be your bonded.

We also gifted you with additional family magics and an extra: your magic and soul will never be tainted regardless of what branches of magic you practice. Your orientation will remain neutral despite the ability to cast powerfully across the spectrum. You get to discover what these new skills are yourself, however, as we won't be telling you. The other two letters along with this one are information detailing your mother and father's families, family magics, creature inheritances, inherited skills, etc..

We are sure that you recognise the pendant; it is yours and we ask that you wear it for the protective enchantments we have woven therein. It will also help you adjust when your inheritances come in.

Understand that we did this with your future happiness in mind.

We wish you the best in your new life,

Lady Fate, Lady Magic, and Lord Death

* * *

Harry had to reread it multiple times before the truth finally began to sink in. He slumped back into his chair, mind reeling. _The changes and discrepancies are not Dumbledore's fault_ , he realised. _The man didn't do anything other than what I originally knew he had. Why did I naturally blame him for everything? I should be smarter than this!_ Harry admonished himself.

 _But this does change things. Those three decided to play around with my life and I don't appreciate it. Why didn't they just tell me then instead of springing it on me once I'd already more or less settled in? My heritage, creature inheritances, mates, sane dark lords...I didn't sign up for this! I was supposed to come back in time and make things better_ _—_ _avoid the war, improve magical England, eventually find someone to settle down with, possibly raise a few kids._

Harry huffed, running his left hand through his messy hair in an attempt to calm himself. _At least I know what creatures I'll be, though I know next to nothing about them other than that they're extremely rare and insanely powerful._

 _And they want me to accept Voldemort as a mate? Voldemort who killed my parents, started two bloody wars, killed my friends and family, and they want me to take him as a_ mate _?_

 _It doesn't matter if some of those things haven't happened yet, nor that he did it under compulsion and manipulation. He's still Voldemort! What gave them the idea I would I ever want him?_ Harry gritted his teeth and stewed over the three deities' recklessness.

Eventually he calmed himself with several measured breaths.

 _On the thought of mates...they said I could pick them. All three men. That's so strange._

He had figured out his attraction to men not long after marrying Ginny. It had been an odd thing to realise, that everything he'd believed about himself his entire life had been a lie of sorts. Women were beautiful, soft and curved. Men, though, could be just as hot: hard planes and chiseled edges.

It had been a close call once, with him almost having taken one of Ginny's lovers to bed himself. But unlike her, he had insisted on honouring his vows.

 _Bedding a man isn't the problem, then, but_ three _? At the same time no less! Wouldn't that be cheating, but with everyone going along with it?_

 _Why would they do that? I've never thought about sharing a lover with anyone. Technically I was sharing Ginny, but I certainly wasn't happy about it. Why would anyone consent to being in a relationship where their lover is only partially theirs?_

Harry shook his head, feeling the ache budding in the back of his skull. _This is going nowhere._

He turned to the remaining two letters instead. Both just listed which families his parents had belonged to, which he'd known already from his Gringotts visit.

Some ancestors with known special abilities were listed, but for the most part Harry found them utterly useless. _Perhaps another time, when I'm in a different frame of mind…_

The boy finally gave up on trying to make sense of the jumbled up information he had been presented with and dropped the topic entirely for the time being. He had an enhancement ritual to plan.

Slotting it into his weekend schedule, Harry sighed and decided to retire for the night. He hesitantly took the pendant and hung it around his neck.

Instantly he felt a rush of warmth and comfort. The pendant sat heavily over his heart, but it was a soothing kind of heaviness. It helped to ground Harry and settle his mind as he made his way to the bedroom.

He climbed into bed, curling up with his black and green familiar under the covers, and forced his mind to shut down for the night so he could get some proper sleep.

Saturday dawned. Peacefully slumbering, Harry was buried beneath blue blankets, only his bird's nest of hair visible. Venom was nowhere to be seen, having left earlier in the day to torment the rat trapped in his office.

A soft moan broke the silence, and the whisper of shifting sheets. His eyes fluttered beneath closed lids as he stretched across his bed.

Imagined hands were ghosting across his skin, followed by soft lips. The sensation of a hot tongue tracing his ribs raised every thin hair down Harry's spine.

His pink lips parted as he let out a huff of hot breath. Harry's hands fist in the sheets and his teeth sank into his lower lip. His abdominal muscles quivered under the touch of imagined fingertips. Long strands of black hair tickled and teased the boy as lips descend even lower, leaving a trail of hot open mouthed kisses in their wake.

"Harry," the woman's voice whispered. Her nails gently scratched against his skin, prompting him to look down. Green eyes met blue as the woman smiled, her painted red lips hovering over his waist for just a moment before slowly pressing against skin. A gentle nip to his hip coaxed another moan from the boy as he threw his head back. Just as her slender fingers moved to encircle Harry's cock, he started awake.

Harry very nearly jumped out of his—rather flushed—skin at the shriek of his alarm. His heart was still thundering in his ears as he forced his breathing to even out. Harry barked a bitter laugh as he slumped back into his pillows. Running a hand through his messy hair he rolled out of bed to shut up the caterwauling.

 _A wet dream? Seriously?_ He mused as he makes his way to the bathroom. _I hate puberty._ Irritated, he shoved himself under a lukewarm shower, shifting the tap ever colder until his teeth started chattering. Only then did he allow the hot water to thaw him out again.

Harry left the steamy bathroom behind him with his stomach already rumbling for breakfast. He snacked liberally as he bustled about the kitchen. Cooking for himself had always been something relaxing, and he indulged in singing songs that wouldn't be released for decades, but were stuck in his head nonetheless.

" _You got two black eyes from loving too hard and a black car that matches your blackest soul_..." It devolved into lyricless humming as he bobbed and swayed, hands chopping and stirring to the beat only he could hear.

" _ **What are you doing?**_ " Venom hissed, having arrived only to see his human whisking rhythmically. " _ **Are you alright? Have you been possessed?**_ "

Harry glanced down at his familiar and laughed. " _ **I'm fine, Venom. No need to be so worried**_." Humming happily as he bopped his head.

The snake stared, as if in disbelief, before shaking himself and winding up the boy's body. " _ **If you say so, but is there a reason you are bare of your outer skins?**_ "

Harry paused and took a moment to look down, confronted with his nakedness. _Well, it's not the first time._ A quick summoning spell fetched a change of clothing, which he swiftly donned before returning to his pancake batter. _Mmm, chocolate._

" _Black magic on holiday drive, sweaty palms under desert skies, drinking white wine in the blushing light_ ," Harry's voice broke the silence of the room again, his hands drumming against the counter. His body never stayed still for more than a heartbeat.

Ten horribly sung songs later Harry was sitting at his kitchen table enjoying a big plate of syrup-soaked chocolate-chip pancakes, alongside another plate of bacon, bangers, fried eggs, and hash browns.

He barely managed to dent the mountain of food. _Oh well, there's always tomorrow...and midnight snacks._ Leftovers stowed away, dishes cleaned and the kitchen wiped down, he headed to his office.

A smile stretched across his face: Hedwig was waiting for him on her perch, letter tied to a leg. He summoned her a few strips of bacon before retrieving his mail.

Sealing the letter was the Malfoy crest. _Yes! Finally._

Harry eagerly ripped it open, hoping for good news. His face was almost split in half by his grin as he read. Harry punched the air and let out a whoop of joy before hopping onto his chair. _Thank Magic, I'm finally making progress!_ Just for the sheer joy of it he read the letter one more time.

* * *

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is with great pleasure that I inform you of your Godfather's impending trial date. Sirius Black's hearing is set for the seventeenth of January at ten o'clock in the morning. I will be petitioning the school board for permission to take you, as well as my son, along to the proceedings. I am sure this isn't something you would wish to miss.

In one of our many conversations you expressed that there is evidence which could prove Heir Black's innocence beyond any doubt. I am very interested in receiving this newly acquired proof so that I might pass it along.

The information you sent regarding some of Mugwump Dumbledore's less legal and arguably amoral dealings is in the right hands. Your hesitancy in ruining him is unusual, but I will concede to your desires and wait until after Samhain before I begin taking legal action on behalf of you and all Wizarding children. I do not at all understand why you do not wish to take action against the muggle filth for their horrible treatment towards you.

I heard you were sorted into Ravenclaw. While Slytherin would have been preferable, I can accept that your decision was a reasoned one.

I expect you to keep me informed on further developments at Hogwarts.

Narcissa sends her best wishes.

Regards,

Lucius Malfoy

Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy

* * *

Excitement bubbled beneath Harry's skin, the pleased smile still on his lips. Sirius would be getting a trial. Sirius would be free soon, it was only a matter of time.

He'd follow his original plan to deliver the rat to the Ministry over the winter hols. Anticipation coursed through him, lighting every nerve on fire.

A wicked gleam shone in emerald eyes. He couldn't wait to for the chaos to begin.

Satisfied that progress was finally being made, he turned his thoughts to a more pressing matter: the Hogwarts wards.

He would go find and run a diagnostic on the central wardstone Sunday morning when nobody else was awake to see him. Right now he was worried about the implications of his connection to the ancient castle.

The magic was far weaker than Harry would have expected, considering Hogwarts' age. Generations of magical children passing through her halls should have left behind more than enough latent magic for the wards to be running on full power and have plenty of excess stored away. _So why are they so weak?_

Harry estimated that the wards were at half power, if even that. It perplexed him—if the latent energy wasn't powering the castle's protections, what _was_ it doing?

At least this explained why the castle, for all it's wonders, felt so hollow. Usually old magical buildings were bursting at the seams, almost sentient. Every floorboard, stone, and fixture should be humming with ambient magic. Where had all that magic gone, if not to the ward stone?

The only possibilities he could think of were incomprehensible violations, each more horrifying than the previous.

Harry paled and hoped bitterly that it wasn't someone leaching energy from the wardstone itself. That would mean massive amounts of power collected in one magical, an exceedingly dangerous situation. _Humans guard their power so viciously._

He faltered. _Humans? I thought I was human myself just yesterday._.

Harry sighed. _Apparently my mind is still fixated on the news_.

Initially he had been angry. And confused. How was he supposed to plan to fix things if those three were so casually playing with his life? He didn't appreciate the meddling. At all.

 _At least they let me know. They could have let it blindside me on my thirteenth birthday._

 _But really now, two creature inheritances? Wouldn't one have been enough?_

 _And what is with these useless lists? They don't have any semblance of order to them. It's just names, dates, inheritances, and exceptional abilities_ _—_ _but all jumbled up. Would it have killed them to magic together a nice coherent tapestry?._

As if a light had flickered on within his mind, Harry had found a solution. _When I go to pick up the trunk, I'll see if there are any family tapestries. Then I can compare and combine the information into a single representation of my line._

 _Assuming that all the families have a tapestry. Unfortunately, the one I make will only be half complete because I can't get into the Evans vault yet._

After pursuing the family letters sent by the three deities, Harry compiled a list of abilities and skills and a list of aspects that seemed to be tied to Fae and Elven inheritances. He glanced at the clock to find he had wasted away a whole day doing nothing but research on his own lineage. Harry decided that he would deal with the creature stuff next weekend, when he, hopefully, wouldn't have any other pressing matters to attend to.

Venom had apparently decided to terrorize the rat while he was lost in his newest project, because the snake was curled around the cage, flaunting his fangs at a terrified Pettigrew. He chuckled and watched for a while— at least until the rat passed out. _Good Gods that man is so weak. How on Earth did he ever manage to be a Marauder, much less a Death Eater? What could Voldemort have seen in him to accept the pathetic man into his ranks?_

He penned a quick reply to Lucius, thanking him and purposefully not revealing Pettigrew's existence just to rile. Harry couldn't help himself, messing with the blond was just too _fun_. Sealing the scroll, he left it on the desk for Hedwig and strolled to his kitchen.

After having some leftovers for dinner, Harry slipped into bed and worked on his Occlumency. His snake joined him at some point, cool scales curling around him. He only really noticed once his mind ebbed back out of its trance, his memories safely hidden away behind shields.

Harry smiled affectionately at the dozing reptile that was using him as a bed, before carefully covering himself with his blanket. He watched Venom for a few moments, a sweet smile on his lips as he thought about how happy he was having a snake companion. Harry had quickly become attached to his overprotective, homicidal friend, who had grown into one of his most treasured possessions, right alongside Hedwig and his wand.

The smile stayed, even as he closed his eyes and drifted into a deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **AN, Dec 6, 2019**. Yes, I'm back. And it's a new chapter after like a year. I'm sure many of you are cheering and saying "Finally!" Hopefully there will be more to come soon.

Thank you for all of your likes, favorites and reviews! It's always great to hear what you think and where you see this story going.

I'm in need of a Beta, if anyone is interested I am excited to hear from you.

And as always, a big thank you to my co-author AverageFish!


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